Courage
by SimonHerondale
Summary: A High School AU. It's Cas' first year at a Highschool, and he's terrified. He already thinks he can never be happy, never do what he truly wants to and is stuck in some jaded stupor until a football player who has a love of apple pie shows him different.
1. Cross Roads

**Chapter One.**

"Stop it. Anael, let go of my tie."

"I told you not to call me that. My name is Anna."

Cas looked at his cousin gravely, his deep blue eyes focused on her pale hands still knotted in his tie. "And I told you not to touch my tie."

She let go with a sigh of dismissal and jumped down onto the bed, knocking Cas' bible to the other side of the frame. At that moment, he didn't really care to tell her off. He was much too nervous to think about her at that moment. He turned to the small mirror across from his bed and watched his reflection. He looked the same as he always had. Pale skin, shocking blue eyes but overall dishevelled, his brown hair was nothing more than a mess and his clothes looked ruffled, as if he had slept in them over night. _This is as good as it's going to get. _ With a sigh, he bent to pick up his reliable trench coat and shrugged it on.

"Please tell me you aren't going to wear that to school. You want to make a good impression, don't you?"

Cas didn't speak as he watched her, the two of them were so different that it was almost painful. While he preferred the same clothes, same routine, same people, Anna preferred to live dangerously and rebel against her father's rules. She wore the uniform to her new school but the skirt was precariously short. Even though he didn't know much about the outside world, Cas wasn't sure that nuns would approve of that.

"I find hypocrisy to be irritating. Surely the nuns at St –"

"Oh please. That's different. I'm stuck in a place filled with religiously boring girls who do nothing more than gossip like 12 year olds, eat and then pray, I'm there to spice things up. You're heading to a proper school, with _normal_ people. Try to fit in, huh."

Cas opened his mouth to retort but merely stood there with his mouth open. He had to admit, she did have a point. But Cas wasn't going to change himself, he was too afraid. Silently, he lifted his copy of the bible and placed it on his wonky book shelf filled with religious text bound in old leather. Cas took in a whiff before turning and looking round his bare room.

"I don't know how to do that."

As the two of them headed downstairs, Cas felt the temperature drop immensely. The smell of burning toast wafted through the air as his feet thumped down the wooden, ornate staircase. Cas had always found his home to be far too… formal. One of those places where you felt you could never truly feel at peace. Even the wallpaper made one feel uncomfortable, the blood-red shade reminded mixed with the dark wood and oil paintings almost gave the sense that Dracula would pop out from a corner. If such a beast existed that is.

Anna pushed past Cas as they entered into the kitchen, the only remotely modern room in the house. Balthazaar, Cas' eldest brother, sat at the island next to a pot of freshly brewed coffee. His head instantly snapped up as he heard his brother creak in.

"Really Castiel? You're going dressed like that?"

"You've never complained about the way I've dressed before," he replied in his husky voice.

"Yeah, but that's because you've never been around kids your own age before."

"I'm sure there will be some who are younger that-"

He stopped himself and walked to the kettle, flicking on the switch before searching for some tea. "Did you finish the Bergamot," he sighed.

"No, I hate that stuff. You know that," sighed the other brother before he turned back to his newspaper.

"Hey, where's dad?" asked Anna as she pushed her skirt lover down her waist. "Did he leave already?"

"The church needed his help. Guess you guys will have to get to school yourselves."

Cas pretended not to listen but in fact, he was happy to hear the news. He liked being around "normal" people – as Anna had so quaintly put it – and he liked to walk. Maybe he'd meet some kids from his school, make friends.

"Meg called," sighed a voice from behind him. Cas turned to see Michael, his other brother, standing next to him, leaning his muscular frame against the counter top. Cas immediately backed away, there was something about his brother that made him feel inferior, as if he was not worthy of his company. It may have been because the two of them were so different. Michael was clean cut, his hair always smooth, his clothes always spotless and there was Cas, looking like a hobo in a tie.

"Wh…what did she want?"

"She said she wants to meet you."

Cas slammed the cabinet shut, the kettle whistling loudly beside him. "Well, I don't want to see her."

Cas had picked up his satchel and stormed out of the house without a second thought. He was too mad, too ashamed. How dare Michael just say her name with such ease? It was wrong of him to do so!

He walked down the street, trying to remember where about the school was. He didn't think Lawrence High would be hard to find, he'd just have to look for teenagers walking to class. Cas had abandoned the idea of driving the car Michael had bought him for his seventeenth; it would be stupid of him just to take it. Plus, the air was brisk and chill, waking Cas up from his stupor. Above him, the sky had begun to cloud over, thick and heavy things rolling across like they were about to burst. He hitched his satchel and continued to walk, lowering his head and raising the collar of his coat.

It had felt like months since Cas had been allowed out of the house. What with all that had happened in the last few months, it made sense but he was glad for the freedom he had now.

"Hey! Hey! Guy with the Trench!"

Cas stopped on the sidewalk, turning to see a bright red car speeding past. A blonde girl with a rather round chest leaned out of the window, his bleached hair flapping behind her. Cas thought she wore too much make – up, her face almost looked orange and her eye lids were an awful shade of blue. She blew him a kiss and he could only muster up the thought that he hated the sight of her fake, red nails when the car drove past, sending sprays of water from a puddle into Cas' face, drenching him in filthy water.

The car beeped twice in the distance and then sped even faster down the road.

"And these are the people you are stuck with Castiel. Just hold out for one more year."

Finally, he found it. After running after the red car, Cas had managed to arrive at the school. And he was early too. It was an old looking building with bricks falling off at sides, the alarm bells were covered in rust and he doubted the inside would be any better. Rain had slowly begun to fall, small droplets splashing on the ground as Cas hurried in after a bunch of kids who looked older than he was.

Inside, a bright fluorescence shocked Cas and he tried to shield his eyes as he rushed to the office as he had been told to when his father had signed him up. He looked around, trying to follow the signs that were plastered onto the walls with peeling wallpaper but nowhere led him to where he needed to go. A wave of students walked past him, or rather, pushed. Cas tried to balance but the amount of bodies tossing him to and from made him feel dizzy, his feet swayed and finally, one push sent him tumbling towards the ground.

He must have been there for five seconds until a voice, deep and rich, called out, "Hey!" A pair of strong arms gripped Cas from the waist and pulled him up gently. "Man, are you alright?"

He turned to see a boy, who must have been a year older than him, look right at him. Cas had to admit that the boy was handsome, his sandy hair suited his refined face and his eyes were green. The greenest Cas had ever seen… After a moment, he realised the boy was looking right at him and Cas was merely staring.

"I'm wet."

The boy laughed, it was just as rich as his voice before. "I can feel that. What happened? Look, never mind. I'm Dean and this is my brother Sammy."

"It's Sam actually," smiled a small boy who must have been younger than Dean by a few years. He had dark brown hair and eyes to match. He smiled and extended a hand for him to shake.

Cas merely stared at it.

"You're supposed to- never mind. Dean, where do I go?"

"Up the hall and to the left," he smiled before ruffling his brother's hair and pushing him lightly in the right direction. Once Sam had blended into the crowd, Dean turned to Castiel. He smiled easily, "And where is it you need to go?"

"The school office. I don't know where it is."

"So you thought you'd try the floor?" He laughed and stepped away, leaving Cas standing alone in the group of people for a moment before turning back, "Are you coming or…"

"Oh, yes. Right."

He took a double take before rushing after the other boy, admiring the leather coat her wore. It suit him, made him look… masculine.

"So what's your name?"

"Castiel."

"No, really," laughed Dean. When Cas didn't reply, his laughter was cut short. "Wait, _that's_ your name?"

"Is there something wrong with it?"

"No, no. That means Angel of Temperance, right?"

"That's Cassiel," he sighed. "But yes, I'm named after an angel."

Dean just nodded, leading Cas down a corridor that seemed to thin out the students. A girl with brunette hair watched Cas as she leaned on her locker, nibbling the end of her pencil.

"Looks like someone has the hots for you."

"She might get led poising," suggested Cas. "And why is she hot? The temperature's perfectly fine."

The other boy stopped instantly, he was about half a head taller than Cas and as Dean looked down at him, he felt awkward. His mouth was opened slightly, then shut, then opened again as if he were a fish. Dean patted Cas' shoulder and smiled again, "I like you man, you got that whole… vibe going on."

They stopped in front of a bright red door with a glass window cut out of it, the words SCHOOL ADMINISTRATION plastered on it in large, black lettering.

"Well, good luck Cas. See ya around." Dean waved and walked away, his footsteps light and easy. Cas wished he was like that, friendly and kind, happy. Or at least, appear happy. But Cas had never lived a life that allowed him to do that, he could only be awkward or recluse. Trapping himself in a world of books and away from human contact. He didn't know how to be happy, he couldn't really remember the last time he had truly smiled and it was all her fault. So that's why Cas watched Dean walk away and into the crowd… or at least, that's what he told himself.


	2. First Day

**Chapter 02.**

The bell rung overhead, sending a piercing sound echoing through the halls. Cas looked down at the map that Mrs Hemsworth, a large woman with thick rimmed glasses, had given him. It was stained slightly with coffee that she had knocked over when he walked in and smelt rather… well the word wouldn't come to him but it was less than pleasant. Finally he reached the door with 203 painted on. English, lesson one.

Cas pushed open the door and the room went hush. Pairs of eyes watched him with interest and he shrank back. Did they really need to stare? A man sat at an old wooden desk, his glasses pushed up to the edge of his nose, and he focused on some sheets of paper spread out in what looked to be an organised mess.

"Excuse me…"

The teacher looked up shocked, and paused for a moment before taking off his glasses and smiling. "Oh, you're the new kid aren't you? Castiel Dubois. Nice to meet you, I'm Mr Kripke."

He turned to the class and banged twice on the desk, catching their attention. "Class, this is a new student, Castiel. He's been moved up a year so show a little courtesy huh?" He bent down and picked a light green folder from a drawer and handed it to Cas. "Take a seat next to Chuck. We've read Lord of the Flies over the summer, but you don't really need to worry about not reading it-"

"I have read it," replied Cas as he took a seat next to the boy called Chuck.

He looked like a nice boy, his glasses looked slightly broken, his hair messy but other than that, he had a kind face.

"And what did you think of it?"

Cas shrugged off his satchel and sat up straight. His seat was in the middle of the class room and everyone had a pretty good vantage point. "I like the message Golding was trying to portray, that we all have this animal in us, one that is savage and violent, but we repress it. We pretend it isn't there."

"Good," smiled Mr Kripke. "And you, Lisa. What did-"

The door swung open behind him and a boy walked in, hitching up his backpack. Cas realised it was Dean, it was the jacket that gave him away. The other boy dug into his pocket and pulled out a yellow sheet.

"Mr Winchester, I'm glad you finally graced us with your presence."

"Sorry Sir," smirked Dean as he dropped the sheet onto the desk. "I had to talk to Coach Gamble."

Cas straightened up in his chair watching as Dean walked past and swung down into a chair to his right. He wanted to talk to the boy, there was something about him that seemed… alluring? No, that wasn't the right word. Cas didn't know what to think, he just opened his folder and looked down at the notes for the novel. Already he was so confused about life at Lawrence.

( )

The rest of the day seemed to have flown by and the bell for lunch rang around the biology lab. Cas packed up his books methodically and rushed out, eager to find somewhere quiet to relax.

_Ring. Ring. Ring. _

He dug into his pocket and flipped open his phone, a low and grumbling voice answered on the other side.

"Castiel! It's me, Anna."

"Why do you sound like a man?" he asked, walking down the colourfully decorated hall.

"Thanks for that. It's the connection. Look, never mind that. How's school going?"

"How is it meant to go?"

He could hear her sighing on the other side of the line but didn't really care. The stream of pupils and Cas pushed open the door leading to the sports field.

"Evidently, you're having a ball. My day's been shit."

"Profanity? Uncle won't be pleased."

"He's never going to hear. No one here is interesting, all of them are these mindless drones- damn, I have to go. Bye Castiel. Try to be somewhat normal."

She clicked off before he had a chance to retaliate but he really wouldn't have known what to say. Outside, the air had thickened. Sounds of people laughing came from the bleachers across from him so he turned around, hoping to remain under the radar.

"Castiel! Hey, over here!"

The boy, Chuck, waved at him from the bleachers with a smile. Cas stood, rooted to the ground, and watched. Chuck sat with a girl with blonde hair who was flipping a pen knife open and shut, open and shut. Cas clenched his fists and walked over quickly, hoping they wouldn't be like those kids with the red car.

"Jo, this is the guy I was telling you about. He totally pummelled Mr Kripke in a Lord of the Flies debate."

Jo turned and smiled as Cas made his way up the bleachers. She looked friendly enough, harmless if one wasn't looking at the knife in her hand. "Ash is gonna like you. He tends to like people who stand up to teachers."

"I never meant to offend –"

"Be proud of it, " laughed Jo as she tapped on the space next to her. "Come on, sit down. Chuck's telling us about these stories he's writing."

Cas fumbled as he sat down next to Jo, clenching his knees to his chest. He felt out of place in his coat and tie, the others wore jeans and hoodies and he was admiring a small slit in Jo's jeans, thinking of how Michael may react to it.

"It's a story about these two brothers who travel around America fighting demons. They go through all this supernatural stuff, like ah, like a woman in white or wolves. Oh, and vampires."

"Not like those Twilight ones. Proper, hard-core vampires," interrupted Jo.

Chuck dug into his satchel and dug out a large pile of paper, drops of tea stained the corners and ink had run down the centre but it was still legible. Cas took it from the boy and began to read, his eyes racing down the pages.

"There two are brothers?"

"Yeah, why?"

He reread a small extract again and handed it back, "I sense that they have some sexual tension between them. What that on purpose?"

Chuck laughed awkwardly and snatched the manuscript back. Pushing up his glasses he snorted, "I'll have to work on some stuff."

A whistle sounded off in the distance and from a small, old looking building, a group of football players ran out. They wore the same red uniform and ran with incredible control. Cas had never seen something like this with his own two eyes. Behind the football players ran a boy with a camera. He bent down and took pictures of the squad huddled together before clapping their hands in unison and spreading out.

"And there's Ash," laughed Chuck. "The guy has a 4.0 grade average, is part of the AV club and he still thinks he needs extra credit?"

"No, he's just pretending to care about the football players. When the cheerleaders come out he'll be all over them. Oh look, there's Dean."

Cas swallowed before turning back to the field. Sure enough, Dean was bent over and calling out instructions. "I have to go," he announced, throwing his satchel over his shoulder again. He looked down at his old watch, still half an hour till lunch ended. "I told Mr Kripke that I'd get some study notes from him." Cas rushed down the bleachers, ignoring Jo and Chuck's confused calls coming from behind him.

( )

The door slammed behind Cas and he sighed loudly. Finally the day was over and he could hide up in his room, lose himself in a copy of A Tale of Two Cities that he had borrowed from the library – one of the few places in the school he actually liked – and maybe do some work. It had been one of the most dull, odd days Cas had ever experienced and he was glad for the familiar surroundings of the house. He could hear the rustling of paper and froze, who could have been home-

"Castiel. How was school?"

Michael stood against the doorframe in the same suit he wore that morning. He had tired looking bags under his eyes but his smile was easy. Cas looked away, staring at the glossy, wooden floor.

"Fine. I'm going to-"

"We need to talk about it eventually Castiel. One day, we need to properly discuss it."

"Why? Why do I have to relive it Michael? Just so _you_ can have some piece of mind. No, no I won't."

He moved to walk past his brother but was stopped by his strong grip. Cas tried to push away from him but Michael was too strong and pulled down the sleeve of his trench coat. Revealing thin, putrid and puckering scars.

"If she made you do this, I need to know why. I want, no Castiel, I _have_ to protect you."

"Then why did you want me to talk to her!" he yelled back, pulling away and gripping his wrist. He watched his brother carefully, moving toward the staircase in small steps.

"I thought it would help Cas. I… I thought if you saw her, you could face her. I know you're strong enough to do that. When I found out about, well about what you were doing, I had to try to protect you. Didn't I? It would be some sort of miracle if I- "

"Was that meant to be some kind of joke?" snapped Cas. Finally he had reached the first step on the staircase and breathed heavily. "Let it rest Michael. I don't want to relive the past. I can't change that but I can prevent it from wrecking my future." He turned on his heel and barrelled up the steps before Michael could stop him.

He locked the door behind him and sunk to the wood, pulling down his sleeve to look at his scars. They made him flinch and his eyes stung with unshed tears, but Cas wouldn't cry for these. All he could do was look at his failure, made at a time he felt so ashamed and alone and pathetic. _Vir sapit qui pauca loquitur. _


	3. Descending

Chapter 03.

It had been three weeks since Cas had started high school but he still didn't feel settled in. Against Anna's advice he had decided to join one of the schools bible groups. It wasn't _too_ bad, most of the kids were even amicable but Cas didn't always feel comfortable around them. Some of them seemed to feed of the energy of one another, like everyone had to agree with what they had said. But they were like him, brought up in a world of religion, so they couldn't be all bad… right?

That day, Cas had planned to meet his father later on at school so he took a walk around the football pitch. There was nothing interesting to see, just a few people jogging, some girls in skirts shaking frivolous pom poms. One broke from the crowd and sauntered over to Cas, nibbling the bottom of her lip.

"Hi," she said, breathing heavily. "I'm Olivia."

Cas stopped and looked at her, she would have sent Balthazaar into a mad rage. "You're shirt seems to be too small for you."

Olivia laughed and looked down at her ample chest, "Oh you noticed?" She giggled, a noise that sent blood curdling through Cas' ears.

"Of course I did. Clearly you are unsure of your size, here," he pulled out the thin, green scarf, that his father had given him and handed it to her. "You shouldn't be on show like that."

He turned away before she could speak in but he was sure he heard the girl actually squeak. _Squeak! _Was that how most girls were? The thought made him shudder but he knew that was silly, whenever he had spoken to Jo she had never been like that. Cas decided that he liked Jo, she was kind to him. Chuck was fun to be around with too but sometimes he would talk about something on a wide tangent to what the others were talking about. Cas walked off the pitch and gripped his satchel as he climbed the stairs to the entrance of the school. He didn't feel the preasures of high school like most other kids, his classes were going extremely well. In fact, none really challenged him. But Cas wished that one did, or he had something to distract him from his home life. Usually he'd finish his homework in homeroom or one of his free periods and the school's library only had so many decent books. Cas smiled at the memory of picking up a copy of _The Picture of Dorian Gray._ As far as Cas rebelling went, Dorian Gray was the limit. All that sex and angst, not to mention the connections to the devil made it all a little too scandalous for his household.

He planned on reading Nicholas Nickleby, it was one of the few books that made him feel… part of something. Like out there, someone else might be going through something similar to what he was. Cas pushed open the door, not noticing another body moving across and the two collided. He heard books slam to the ground just as his foot slipped and he dropped hard onto the linoleum.

"I always find you on the floor," laughed the other body.

Dean.

Cas hoisted himself up and began to scramble to pick up some of Dean's sheets, "I'm sorry. I didn't-"

"It's fine man, everyone's a klutz once in a while."

The sheets of paper slipped in between Cas' fingers as he handed them to Dean. The other boy smelt pleasant, a smoky odour that had a hint of pine laced through it. He could feel his palms sweating but he didn't know why. From what he had seen, Dean was an easy going guy. He had friends, did okay in some classes, his brother seemed to adore him…

"Castiel. Did you hear me?"

"Oh, sorry. What is it?"

"I asked if you were okay."

Cas stood up abruptly and brushed down his coat, "I'm fine. Sorry, again."

He turned away before the other boy could call him back and rushed to the library, hoping he wouldn't be followed.

The hallways were plastered with posters announcing that there was going to be some sort of senior dance in a few months and Cas didn't see the reason to advertise it now but from what he had heard, it was a big event that most people spent the year preparing for. It confused him, these silly things. Did there really need to be a dance, did people really have to care about how they were perceived? Sometimes, only sometimes, Cas wished he hadn't been allowed to leave the house.

_Ring. Ring. Ring._

Cas flipped open his phone and slid into a doorway, "Father?"

"Castiel, son. I'm, sorry but the church called. We need to prepare for the televised mass and I have to be there, you understand don't you? And tell Anna that her father will be joining me."

He held his tongue, not willing to show his disappointment. How many days had he spent unable to see his father? The number was higher than he wished. "I'll tell her. Goodbye Father."

"Securus filius."

Cas breathed out before shutting the phone and dropping it into his satchel. The idea of going home wasn't one that really appealed to him and he didn't feel like he could just call someone. He wondered if he should go find Dean, ask him to show him around the school and tell him about the way the school worked but the chances were that the other boy had already left. He walked back towards the library and watched as some others laughed as they past him. He couldn't remember the last time someone had made him laugh, in fact he couldn't even remember the last time someone had wanted to make him laugh. _Haven't smiled and haven't laughed, what kind of person are you?_ The thought echoed around his as he reached the door and was about to push it open.

"Hey! Angel boy. Don't just walk away from me!"

Cas spun on his heels to see a round boy wearing a letterman jacket walking towards him, his accent was one that would make Cas think of a Londoner and the two others that flanked him looked like their hair has been drenched in hair gel.

"Can I help you?"

"Yeah, you can," smirked the boy as he cracked his knuckles. "See, I hear you're good at calculus and I struggle in that region—"

"Doesn't surprise me," muttered Cas under his breath.

"What did you say?" scowled the boy.

Cas backed away slightly but he wasn't that afraid, why would he be? "It's just that I'm in your math class. Aren't you the one who didn't know the rule of Pythagoras? That's basic-"

Before he could finish, the boy lunged forward with his hands outstretched. A strange, animalistic look streaked across his face. Cas bent his knees and as the boy reached up with a fist, he grabbed it and slammed his other fist into his stomach. The boy doubled over and Cas swiped from under his foot, sending him to the hard floor. The boy tried to reach out for Cas but he spun him so he was on his back, one foot resting on his neck.

"Crowley, leave it," snapped one of his "henchmen."

Crowley made a growling sound, snapping Cas back to reality. Looking down at the scene, it was almost laughable. The boy in the old trench and tie was actually over powering a football jock and Cas wondered what others may have said it they had seen it. But his conscience caught up to him and Cas released to boy and began to run. He slipped down the gleaming floors and tripped down the steps, the feel of his satchel on his back felt rhythmic and almost soothing. Finally, he jumped down the last step and broke into a full sprint as he saw the door. His body collided into the door and it broke open. The sound of a bird singing calmed him down slightly and he slowed down to a walk, looking around him in case someone was too suddenly jump out. Maybe he should apologize, or pretend it ever happened. He doubted Crowley would be happy to have the whole school that he was beaten up by the school's "angel boy."

( )

_"I know what conscience is, to begin with. It is not what you told me it was. It is the divinest thing in us. Don't sneer at it, Harry, any more-at least not before me. I want to be good. I can't bear the idea of my soul being hideous."_

Cas looked up from the book and watched the small lake in front of him. It looked to be fresh water, with water lilies floating lazily on the top. Sunlight bounced off the top of the water making it look like glass and the best thing about it, it was secluded. No one was there to ruin the moment of serenity for him, no one could ruin this sight. He wondered if he could just swim in the lake, the water looked cool and inviting and he wished to just lose himself in water. Cas tugged down on the sleeves of his jacket – his trench coat tucked under him – and went back to reading the book. There was something tugging on him, maybe he should call home and tell them he was going to be late, or even tell Anna about her father.

Cas sighed, it was always the church. The church was always the most important thing in Cas' life, he knew it. Since he was little he had been made to go to mass each week, to bible classes. He could name every angel in existence and what their names meant, he could remember sections of the bible like they were lyrics to his favourite song. Not to mention hymns. His father would always sing him a hymn before he slept, so God would be watching over him after hearing the sweet melody. But what kind of life was that? Cas didn't hate religion and he respected the ideas, the theological discussions he would have with Balthazaar were always the most interesting conversations he had had with a person but that was all he knew. If it weren't for books and maybe Anna, Cas would be nothing more than a scared child. Or at least, more scared than he was now. He wished his life had been different, he wished he had grown up with the little things, like a Christmas that had presents and not a lecture, a family that didn't judge him on everything he did… but that was all some distant dream. One that was no longer in Cas' reach. But why worry about that now, when he had a silent view in front of him. One where he could rest and –

"Dean! Dean come on," giggled some girl.

Cas muttered under his breath and began to pack up his things, slipping his trench coat over his bag just as a brunette girl with tanned skin, Lisa he believed, burst through the foliage with Dean behind her. _So much for the silence. _ Cas slipped behind the trees but he couldn't help himself. He had to see what was about to happen, it was something he'd never seen before.

Lisa grabbed at the lapels of Dean's leather jacket, pulling him down closer to her. He didn't seem to struggle as she slammed her lips against his. Dean's hands snaked down her hips and pulled her closer to him, slowly he nuzzled her neck while she moaned. Cas could feel himself scowling, his quiet place was about to be soiled by these two! No, no he had to stop-

"Lisa," breathed Dean. "Lisa, no stop."

She didn't seem to listen to him and moved towards his lips again but Dean managed to move back, making Lisa kiss the thin air.

"I said stop."

She broke away from him, brushing down her hair and taking a few steps away as if he repulsed him. "What is it? Why don't-"

"You know why. I'm sorry darlin' but I just can't."

He sighed and ran a and through his golden hair, there was something about the way he breathed out that seemed too shaky to Cas, for once there was a slight crack in Dean and it was almost endearing. Cas assumed he wasn't often this shaky.

"You'll regret this."

"Trust me, I won't."

Lisa cocked her hip and looked as if she was pouting. She wasn't like the girl Cas knew in class, that girl was kind and sweet but this girl was more like… what was it his Uncle had called them? Harlots?

"Please stop doing that. You look like a duck."

"You're a jerk Dean Winchester," she squeaked before slapping him in the face. For a moment, Cas paused and thought that maybe squeaking was something all girls did. Dean's hand rubbed is cheek but Cas knew the blow couldn't have been that hard. Lisa turned and walked away, pushing through the foliage she had come through and it was almost as if she had disappeared. Cas thought to go but he knew he may make too much noise, so instead he watched as Dean dropped down to the grassy bank, pulled out his phone and dialled.

"Yeah Sammy, is that Math club over yet? Great, no I'll come get you."

Dean dropped his phone and leaned back on the back, mumbling something about enjoying the peace for a minute but Cas couldn't really hear. He just remained there, behind the tree, awkwardly watching.

( )

Cas slipped into the house at around 6 o'clock, trying to remain as quiet as he could. The house seemed still, as if no one was in. But they must have been, everyone was always home but 5. Cas dropped his keys into the little bowl beside the door and inched in slowly. His head swum with his thoughts, why hadn't Dean wanted to do anything with Lisa? Did he not find her attractive? Cas thought she was rather pretty but not the sort he liked.

"Hey Castiel!"

Cas jumped as Anna's head poked from around the corner. He took a moment before speaking, a little too startled to calm down.

"Anael-"

"Anna. Never mind," she sighed. "Michael and Bally are in the drawing room, they said they wanted to see you about the church but you can speak to them later. Here," she smiled as she thrust something into his hand. A flyer stating there was a party down at someone called Khoi's house.

"I don't know her."

"Doesn't matter genius. It's a party and everyone's invited." Anna smiled for a moment before sighing again. Cas couldn't blame her.

"I' sure our fathers would stop us from going."

"No, they wouldn't know. They'll think we have bible group that night."

Cas looked down at the flyer again, the date SATURDAY 18TH bright on the bottom, "But we-"

"Castiel. It's called a lie. So are you in or out because I'm going regardless. Just think of it as…you watching out for me."

Wasn't this what Cas wanted? A life away from religion and rules even if for one night, and this was it!

"Fine," he conceded, "I'll come."


	4. Blip

Chapter 04

"Think about it Jo, Area 51 must exist! All those crop circles, and all those people who said they were taken-"  
"You forget that half these people are drunk when they make these calls," laughed Jo as she stabbed her fruit salad.

Cas sat with his back straight, watching as the others laughed at Ash's attempt to get them all believe in his wild conspiracies. He liked sitting with the others, they were more relaxed than his bible group. They didn't all force him to give answers he didn't believe or even talk about dull topics. No, with Jo, Ash and Chuck things were always calm and dare he say it, fun.

"Why would the Government _need_ an Area 51 if there aren't aliens?"

"They don't. There is no Area 51 and there are no aliens."

Ash mumbled to himself before pulling down his trucker cap slightly, "Chuck, you like all that Supernatural stuff right? Tell her I'm right."

"Sorry," smirked Chuck. "I'm into folklore, wolves and all that stuff. Extra-terrestrials are just stupid."

"I've never felt so close to you guys."

Cas could feel the corners of his mouth twitching, the closest thing he'd gotten to a smile. Before anyone else could talk, there was the sound of a chair scraping back. Cas turned to see Dean place a tray onto the table before taking the seat close to him. He wore the same leather jacket that Cas had always seen him wearing and the idea was almost comforting because he had done the same with his trench coat.

"Dean, can you please tell them that… oh never mind."

Dean gave a smile before plunging a fork into his slice of pie. Looking at him reminded Cas of the day at the lake and he felt a nervous tingle shiver up his spine.

"So how's your English resit looking?" asked Jo, popping a grape into her mouth.

"Same as Spanish. I'm not bothered, I was never going to pass any of those classes."

"You shouldn't think so little of yourself," said Cas, surprising even himself. "I… I just mean that I doubt you've really tried."

"I've got a lot going on Cas-"

"No reason. I can help if you want. I hear you're good at Politics, maybe you could help me there if I help you with some other subjects?"

Dean laughed, the sides of his crinkling slightly, "I'm only good at that cause I'm a good liar." He sighed, "Fine, it's a deal. Persistent aren't you?"

Cas shrugged before picking up his cheeseburger. This was normal, helping someone, but not in the religious sense. After taking a bite, Cas dug into his pocket and pulled out for the flyer for the part Anna had told him about. Now that he was closer to these people, maybe they'd even consider themselves his friends, they'd go with him. Jo saw the flyer first and snatched it from Cas.

"Oh I heard about this, Khoi's isn't it? You guys going?"

"I wasn't sure," replied Cas a little too mechanically. "I don't really get how a party would go."

"You've never been," chocked Chuck as he spat out his orange soda. "Oh we need to take him!"

Dean slid another forkful of pie into his mouth and nodded, "Sure," he said with a full mouth.

_Maybe it won't be so bad._

( )

Saturday came too soon for Cas and he stood in front of his mirror staring back at some stranger. The boy he watched wasn't him. This boy's hair was still a mess but in the styled sense, as if he had just woken from bed, he wore chinos and white plimsolls, a red knitted jumped that he could grip the cuffs of and no trench coat or tie. Cas spun in a circle, looking at himself from all angles and winced. This wasn't him, he didn't feel right.

"Anna, I don't think I should wear this."

"What! You look fantastic," she smiled from the bed. While Cas was dressed in the modest sense, Anna was different. She wore cut-offs that ended just a few centimetres below the top of her thigh, a tank top that revealed her midriff and dark brown boots.

"We don't look like us!" he argued. "Can't I just put on a shirt and –"

"No, I won't let you." She stood and began to drag him out of the room, slamming the door behind him. "Think of it as an adventure, like in those books you read. Pretend you're some character about to go to some exciting gala or something."

"If that were the case, I'd at least wear a tie."

She made a growling noise that made him instantly shut up and the two of them crept down the stairs. Anna burst down the stairs and through the front door while Cas waited behind.

"Michael! Anna and I are going to bible group, be back later."

"Oh okay," he replied, walking out of the kitchen , wiping his hands on a dishcloth. "When will you be back."

"Don't know. It'll be late I think."

"Just call then," he smiled. "Castiel, when you get back-"

"Okay bye!" rushed Cas as he ran through the door, shutting it behind him. He knew what Michael wasn't going to say and he didn't want to hear it. Clenching his jumper cuffs in his face, Cas dropped into his car and turned on the ignition. The car thrummed from under him and Anna made a giggling sound.

"Let's go!" she called before Cas shot forward.

( )

Before they even reached the house, the music vibrated on the road and echoed down the street. Cars littered the sides of the street, some people sitting on the curb and drinking something from a brown paper bag. The house was really a mansion, wide pillars with ivy wrapped around them holding the front entrance up. The courtyard held a large fountain with bright plants dotted around, a bench could be seen from around the corner and at all looked pleasant if one ignored the half-naked teenagers dancing all over it.

"Nervous," asked Anna as they parked the car and headed up the road.

"No… no I'm- yes. What do I do?"

"Find your friends and have a good time. It's not hard."

"But what about-"

"Don't worry about me," she snapped as they reached the door. "I'm getting a lift home so just worry about yourself. Good luck Cassie."

She pushed the door open and even louder, thumping music broke through the panel and escaped onto the street. Cas walked in after, engulfed in people dancing and drinking, in the corner a couple were making out and people watched! A small, chocolate coloured girl with a rabbit backpack handed him some herbal ecstasy before merging into the crowd and handing more out. Already he was nervous and had lost sight of Anna.

Cas pushed through and made his way up stairs. The air instantly cooled and he found himself walking toward a balcony looking over the main room. Strobe lights flashed violently as bodies grinded against one another. You could almost feel it, smell it, the sound of two people dancing as one in the crowd of many. How could one place be this big? He pushed away from the balcony and into the first room he saw.

It was a large room with cream walls and a plush carpet. Cas took a sigh of relief, the air was chill, some of the noise blocked… maybe he could just stay up here for a few hours. He moved further into the room and turned the corner to see someone alone on the bed. Dean. Inwardly, Cas sighed, he'd run into the other boy far too often.

"Castiel?"

He realised that he was just standing in the middle of the room, unhidden. Dean turned onto his side, holding up his head with one bent arm.

"Sorry, am I-"

"No, just surprising seeing you like that. I'm used to seeing you in that trench coat of yours."

"My cousin insisted."

Dean turned onto his back and pat the bed, "Well if you're going to just stand there like that… Cas sit down."

He threw Cas a smile before turning back to the ceiling.

"You called me Cas," he observed.

"It sounds right, huh? Don't you-"

"No, no I like it." He sat down on the edge of the bed and watched Dean. His eyes seemed extra green, like someone had polished them. "Why are here?"

"Well nice to know you enjoy my company. Nah, I just couldn't take that rubbish music any more. I'll go down when they play some Springstein."

Cas shuffled further off the bed and looked down at his small, pale hands. He wanted to ask Dean about what he had seen but that would always sound suspicious, plus he doubted he wanted anyone else to know. Dean's eyes shut for a moment and he looked as if he was peacefully sleeping.

"Tell me about yourself Cas."

"Why would you want to know about me?"

"Well, we're going to be helping each other out right? I'd have thought we would try to learn more about one another. Where are you from, favourite color, all that stuff."

"Oh okay… I don't really know what to say." Cas brought his knees to his chest and hugged them tightly, he wasn't good with things like this. He was the sort of person who would blend into the background, never really making an impression. Michael was the only person who tried to bring up the past. "I've moved around a lot. All over the country, Texas, Kentucky, California, New Jersey, Alaska… my favourite was New York. There was this Ocean Room in the American National Museum of History and I'd just lie on the floor and look up at the ceiling because there was this big whale and the ceiling had this blue glass… it was the best thing to see. And I'd lay there for hours, sometimes with a book and other times just on my own, watching. Oh, and at Christmas there was this tree decorated with origami once, I made this origami dog and- I'm sorry, I don't usually talk about myself, I'm just a bit nervous."

He hadn't noticed that Dean's eyes had opened again, the emeralds looking right at him, "You should, for once you seem animated when you talk about the past."

"Yeah well not all of it needs to be spoken off."

"I don't know about that. I think people who're scared of the past are just cowards, it's only gonna ruin the future."

_No, not you._ Cas couldn't take his hands away from his wrists. Did Dean think he was a coward? Cas had the thought that he may have been, a brave person would have seen those who tormented their pasts.

"I don't know about that Dean."

"I do. The past doesn't scare me, I don't see why it should."

Cas abruptly stood from the bed and stepped back, as if Dean had lashed out at him with a knife. "I have to go-"

He didn't bother waiting for Dean to sit up before he burst through the door, the hot air swelling around him. Some song blared loudly, a heavy drumbeat shaking Cas to his core. He raced down the stairs and merged into the grinding bodies.

"Hey Angel boy!" called someone, a girl, dragging him into the main room where a DJ had. The girl began to thrust against him, grabbing his hands and placing them on her waist. Cas could feel the sweat forming on the top of his brow. "Come on, get into it," she giggled.

"I don't know how to dance!" he called to her.

The girl turned to face him, draping her arms over his shoulders. "Haven't you danced before?" she laughed. When Cas didn't reply, her eyes widened. "Wow, really? I knew you came from a strict family but – never mind. Here." She pulled out a pack of the herbal ecstasy and prompt him to open his mouth. Cas looked up at the balcony before dropping his mouth open and feeling the pill drop into his mouth. He felt nothing at first but then a sort of warm feeling dripped through him. The girl grabbed a bottle of something blue and handed it to Cas. He only looked at it for a moment before drinking the whole thing. As soon as the liquid touched his lips, he felt a sort of ember in him begin to rise. And he didn't stop at one, he just wanted to wash it all away.

( )

Cas popped another bottle, walking awkwardly on his feet as he travelled through the crowd. His original dance partner had disappeared long ago and he hadn't seen anyone else he knew well. He liked this feeling, he was so… so alive! He knew he had problems but he couldn't care less about them, he knew he should stop but there was this animal in him stopping that from happening. He dropped into the hall and tried to regain balance when he saw Crowley by the door, glaring right at him.

"A'ight mate!" called a drunk Cas. "How bout putting another shrimp on – no that's Australians," he laughed and slipped again, "oopsies."

"Right. Who knew you'd be such a free wire."

"Mm, the freest! So Crowley, have you recovered from our last meeting."

"I don't –"

Cas lunged forward drunkily, patting the other boy on the shoulder, "Oh you know. That time I beat you up."

A crowd had surrounded them and someone made a loud "OOOOHHH" sound, Crowley began to blush bright red.

"Castiel, I'd shut up if I were you."

"Aw, did I upset the little chap?"

From the crowd, someone began to chant "_Fight, fight, fight!"_ and it began to escalate. Whoever Khoi was, their party was about to take a turn for the worst. The crowd seemed to have amped up Crowley and he lunged forward. This time, Cas was too drunk to be properly balanced and was slammed onto the floor, clutching his stomach. Crowley lifted his foot and began to kick. One kick, two kicks, three kicks… the rhythm reminded him of the knocks me made before walking into someone's room. Everything was blacking out around him, even the pain becoming a dull throb.

"Hey! Bitch!"

Crowley stopped, his foot mid-air, "Leave it Winchester. This fag needs to be taught a lesson."

"Don't call him that. Don't call anyone that."

"What are-"

Before he could finish, Dean had swung the first punch knocking Crowley back. The other boy yelled out and the two of them wrestled on the ground for a few minutes. But Cas could barely keep up before his eyes felt too heavy to keep open.

( )

"Cas! Cas, wake up buddy. Come on Cas, wake up."

Dean, Dean was the one speaking. Cas tried to tell him to be quite, that he had a headache but he couldn't move his mouth, he couldn't even open his eyes. All he could do was lay there.

"Someone call an ambulance! "

( )

**A/N : Sorry this is a bit of a rushed Chapter but I wanted to get it done before school started :)**


	5. Awake

Chapter 05.

_Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep._

Cas tried to remain calm, still everything was a blur in his head. Everything made him feel heavy, weak, as if he was a pretty painting that had been slashed. His eyes opened slightly, allowing piercing light to break through the darkness.

"Castiel!" called someone. Was that Anna?

"Is he waking up?" asked another girl, Jo maybe.

Cas tried to move, tried to speak but the same drowsy feeling overtook him again and everything slipped away.

( )

_He woke up in an iron bed, an itchy blanket the only thing covering his body. As Cas sat up, he realised he knew this room. It had once been his, when the family had lived in Oregon. The soft green walls the peeled slightly were almost comforting. He slipped from the bed and threw on some clothes before slowly pushing open the door. The smell of pancakes and bacon sizzled through the air and Cas realized he was starving. _This has to be a dream, _he thought. _How else could I be here?

_The shag rug beneath him felt familiar between his toes and made a flood of nostalgia rush to Cas as he reached the bottom door. Through a glass patrician, he could see Michael and Balthazaar, maybe only three years younger than the present day, playing chess. On the sofa, Anna chased her brother Uriel around for a remote control. On an arm chair sat his Uncle Jeb, a balding man with a kind face who did nothing but read. He sat in the chair with his glasses teetering on the edge of his nose. But not only that, Cas could see himself in the glass. His reflection waved back at him with a small smirk, he could see a tooth was missing and there was a small chip on one of his incisors… the old him. Cas he had a sudden thought and pulled up his sleeve. No cut, no laceration, just smooth and pale skin. _Maybe, if I just stayed here, things wouldn't be too bad.

_The sound of bacon sizzling pulled him out of his reverie and he raced to the cream kitchen floor. As it pushed open, he was welcome to the sight of the old granite counters, the smooth floor, the dark wooden chairs… his father stood by the stove, shaking a pan but there was someone else with him. A woman with dark chocolate hair and gold-tinted skin. She laughed shrilly before taking a sip from her mug, "Lucy is so excited to meet Castiel and Michael. She loved Bally, that boy can even charm babies!"_

"_I know. He'll end up being some sort of lawyer if I'm not careful. And Lucy? I thought her name was – you didn't."_

"_What?"_

"_It's short for Lucifer isn't it?"_

_The woman took another sip, this one slower and more awkward, "Maybe…"_

_Cas' father looked up with a faint smile but his eyes widened when he caught sight of his son. "Castiel, I made you breakfast. Come sit. Meg was telling me all about her little girl."_

_Castiel froze, each and every part of his body turning to marble. Meg, it couldn't be. Not here, not in his dreams. Meg turned to look at him and Cas had to hold in his scream. Her eyes were like black voids, her face still sinister and vivid._

"_Come sit next to me Castiel."_

"_No, I'm okay. Thank you-"_

"_Why don't you want to sit next to me? I won't bite."_

_Her voice had turned cold, dark. Violent. _

_Cas tried to back away but felt something hard and cool stop him. Suddenly, he could feel a wall, as if made from glass, rise around him. Meg stood from the table and behind her, the kitchen began to ignite. The flame began to sizzle, the bright orange tongues licking the counter tops. Cas searched for his father but he seemed to have disappeared. Meg moved closer as Cas shrank into a corner of the wall, hiding his head between his legs. Everything grew hotter, he could feel the sweat forming on his body. Each flame made a rustling sound, engulfing the kitchen._

"_You'll never be rid of me little boy," she laughed. "I will always be here."_

_Cas began to scream. Not from the flames that had begun to swirl around him, but from his wrists. It was as if a knife was slashing into them, his blood pouring onto the hard floor. _

"_Please, stop!" he cried, unable to hold onto his tears._

_Meg continued to laugh as Cas screamed in pain. He could feel his skin burning but there was nothing he could do but succumb to the darkness that surrounded him._

( )

Was he screaming? Cas thought he was screaming but he felt like he was detatched from his body. Someone was pinning him down as his body thrashed on the bed. Sweat trickled down his spot as he screamed. At first it sounded like nothing, just random outbursts of letters but then he caught some of the words and felt a pang in his stomach.

"DON'T LET HER TOUCH ME! GET HER AWAY FROM ME! NO, NO, NO!"

( )

Everything felt stiff. As if all of his bones had been replaced by marble and his blood iron. _Wake up Cas, come on. Do it._ He could feel his eyes twitch and then he pulled them open without a second thought. For a split second he thought he could hear the dead skin peeling away before he turned away at the harsh light. Big mistake. His body groaned in annoyance at the sudden movement and Cas sunk back to his original position.

"Castiel, you're up!"

Anna came into view, a wide smile on her face. Her red hair spilt over her shoulder as she leant over to kiss him on the cheek. "I'm so sorry," she whispered before moving back.

As Cas got used to the light, he saw Michael and Balthazaar sitting, watching him. He could feel the blood rushing to his face, he felt nothing but shame as he watched them.

"Cassie," smiled Balthazaar as he stood and moved over. "Finally Sleeping Beauty has awoken. We missed you back at the house."

"I've been sort of busy," he replied weakly. "What happened? Why am I here?"

"I can answer that," interrupted Michael. He remained in the chair, watching his little brother, " The doctor's say the found traces of N,N-Dimethyltryptamine in your systems. Someone must have spiked your drink."

"Michael… I don't even know what that is."

"Sorry, it's known as DMT. It's this intense drugs that induces these psychedelic feelings."

"Oh, right. Aren't the two of you going to scold me? I suppose you're just waiting for the right time to being yelling-"

"Cassie, we aren't going to yell. Anna told us everything." He looked over at Anna for a moment before turning back to Cas. "We know about her running out on the bible class and you only went to protect her. It was the right thing to do."

Cas turned to Anna who had begun to tear, "I never thought this would happen!" She began to cry, "I'm so sorry." He noticed a look in her eyes, _you owe me._

"That wasn't it Cas. They told us your body had taken a beating. Tell us about that." Balthazaar walked over and hugged a still crying Anna.

"Just some stupid boy-"

"Bally, take Anna to go get some coffee. I need to speak to Castiel."

Balthazaar and Anna broke apart and watched Michael. Even though Michael wasn't the eldest, he commanded the most power and everyone knew not to get in his way. Anna kissed Cas on his forhead and Balthazaar hugged him gently. "Uriel's gonna come see you tomorrow," he smiled before leaving.

Cas watched as the door shut, leaving him alone with Michael. The tension could be cut with a knife and Cas contemplated just pretending to pass out.

"I won't be long Cassie. The doctor said to give you some rest… I need to talk to you about Meg."

"No." Cas turned away and looked up at the ceiling, watching the patchy tiles. He couldn't do it now, he was too weak.

"I heard you shouting Castiel. We all did. And… your wrists make me – I called her again."

Cas didn't move, he just looked down at his bare wrists and felt like yelling out. He wanted to shout at Michael, tell him to leave but he was too tired.

"You had no right Michael. I won't see her."

"Then talk to me, Castiel let me help you."

The two brothers remained in silent for a few, achingly long, moments. There was nothing to say, nothing that wouldn't crack the two of them.

"Leave it Michael. Let the past be the past."

"I can't do that Castiel."

"Leave it or don't consider me your brother anymore. The choice is yours."

He could hear Michael standing from his chair and walk over. The scent of his aftershave wafting closer, "Does it mean that much to you?"

"Yes. It does."

Cas lay there, a slight drowsy feeling taking over him. He just listened to the sound of Micheal turning on his heel and walking out of the room. Cas could feel the first tear sting his eye before he succumbed to the darkness again.

_Please don't go Michael. I need you._


	6. Only Two

Chapter 06

Cas had been allowed to leave the hospital a week later and he was glad for it. Hospitals always made him feel uncomfortable, he'd always sense the nurses watching him, the doctor's distain… the whole thing sent a chill up his spine. He sat by his lake, curled up into a tartan blanket watching the night sky. It looked like ink had spilt and someone had though to drop in some diamonds to brighten it up. He watched the stars in silence and breathed out lightly. _This is living. _It had been the first time that week that Cas had felt somewhat at peace. Home was more like a warzone. He and Michael hadn't spoken since the hospital, Uncle Jeb and his father argued constantly about the church, Anna had been found drinking by Balthazaar and what was worse… Cas knew they all knew about him. For the past few years he had thought he had hidden his same but now, he could see them all looking at him differently. Like they pitied him, thought he was weak. Even though he hated to admit it, Cas had always prided himself on being to most independent child in the family. He didn't cling to his father like his brothers, didn't rebel like Anna, he was just Cas – the child who was good and simple and could be trusted. But now, even his father looked at him sadly. Cas wanted to scream, he wanted to make them go back to the way it was before but that would only make them pity him more.

Above him, an owl hooted lightly, as if to assure him that he was not alone and the thought was almost soothing. He tightened the blanket around himself as he sat and listened, somewhere in the distance a car was speeding, music was blaring from a stereo, a phone was buzzing… a phone was buzzing? Cas jumped before reaching into his pocket and pulling out his phone. The screen glared with the name _**Dean **_wide on the screen. Cas couldn't even remember putting Dean's number in his phone.

"H..hello?"

"Cas! You're alive! That's great news," laughed Dean, rather crackly through the line.

"I'm happy about that too," he replied awkwardly.

"I came to see you but you were sedated. I did th-thank you Dean."

There was an odd pause before Dean began to speak again, "Not a problem man. I- I'm just sorry I didn't get there before Crowley got to you."

Cas shuddered, remembering the feel of the boy's foot slamming against his fragile body. _One kick, two kicks, three kicks. _"Thanks for helping out."

"Well, I had to, didn't I? Plus he clearly doesn't like you and any one Crowley hates, I adore."

"I haven't the best people skills. Maybe-"

"No Cas. Don't you dare blame yourself for this." Dean's voice had turned oddly grave. "Look, I gotta go. But do you want to come over to my house tomorrow? For the tutoring…"

Cas could feel his palms going sweaty. Why? He had no reason to be nervous, this was Dean. The boy he occasionally met with for lunch, who laughed at his jokes. He knew Dean, there was no- "Of course."

"Great. I'll text you all you need to know."

He clicked off leaving Cas alone in silence once again. He could feel the wind picking up around him, leaves whipping into the black air. He allowed his body to relax and dropped his phone onto the grass beside his satchel. Still his mind flashed with memories. A woman's cackle, the sound of a sharpening blade, screaming but whose he still did not know. But now they were tinged with newer memories, of his dreams, of his body being slammed again and again… so much violence in a life so young. But for a split second, he had forgotten all about them and still he had no clue why.

(…)

Cas stretched his arms out in bed, the feel of the cotton sheets soothing on his skin. From his window, sunlight streamed through creating a pool of light at the edge of the room. His copy of _A Tale of Two Cities _lay open on his bed, still opened. He just lay there in silence for a second, doing nothing , not even the sound of his breathing able to disturb the sound of nothingness. The thought of Dean crept into his mind and he shot from bed. The nerves he felt the night before were beginning to come back but he shook them away and jumped from the bed.

(…)

He parked the car one block from Dean's house and leaned back. It was bright, the sound of chirping birds echoing down the roads. It was hot, too hot for Cas' liking but probably the nicest day they'd have that year.

"Alright Castiel. Let's do this."

He popped open from the car and walked down the sunny streets. The grass literally seemed greener the further down he walked until he arrived at a small home that made his heart ache. It seemed so warm and inviting, the panels faded, the porch with a swinging bench. Through a clear window, he could see Sam reading, and a woman with blonde curls stroking his hair, kissing him on the top of his head and throwing a bag over her shoulder. Cas hid as the front door opened and the woman lightly walked down the steps and up the road. Cas waited until she had disappeared before emerging from the bush he had hidden in. If anyone had seen him, they may have thought he was stalking them. He took a breath out before making his way to the light red door and knocked twice. He couldn't stop himself from shaking as the door opened to reveal-

"Sam," he smiled.

Sam looked up from the side of the door before pushing it all the way open, "Hi, Castiel right? Dean's in his room."

The younger boy stepped back, allowing Dean in when he made a low noise, "There's a leaf in your hair."

"Oh right. I, ah, I fell."

"Into bush?"

"Yes."

"Oh… alright."

Sam sidestepped past before slipping back to his original room leaving Cas in the hall. He stood there looking around at the family photos. They all looked so happy, so peaceful as if they were all content, safe… everything Castiel was not. He noticed a picture of Dean with another boy, his arm draped around his shoulder. The boy grinned happily, his dirt blond hair falling just over his eyes, but there was something about him. Something about this boy that led Cas to believe he was special to Dean. He just didn't know how… Cas turned away and made his way up the stairs, reaching a wide landing. There were six doors, all shut, and Cas stood in the middle of them all. He didn't need to panic, he could hear the classic rock coming from the door and the end of the hall. With a nod of resolustion he stepped forward and knocked.

"Come in Sammy!"

He pushed the door open, just poking his head through the door, "I'm not Sam. May I still come in?"

"That's precious," he mocked. "Sit down then."  
Cas looked around the room. It was nice, nicer than he thought Dean would have.

The walls were painted a dark blue, a dark wooden desk pushed against the wall with stacks of paper filling the space. A few pictures stood on a side table, smiling faces looking into the room and one or two posters neatly lined on the wall. Cas noticed a small shelf with a few books on them, old and shabby looking but clearly loved.

"So, er, where do we start?"

"You could teach me some Spanish."

"Oh right, yes of course."

They moved over to the desk and Dean hurriedly moved all the sheets of paper away. Cas noticed his writing was rather fluid and neat, something he did not expect. Dean flicked on the lamp, a pale orange flow emanating from behind the shade.

"So Castiel, what do I need to know?"

There was something that stirred in Cas, he realised he liked it when Dean called him "Cas", the way he said it made it seem proper, and almost loving.

"We can go through the imperfect tense," he decided, pulling out his Spanish textbook from his satchel. When he turned back, he saw Dean looking at him with a confused face. "You do know what that is, don't you?"

Dean sighed before smiling weakly, "Not really no."

"Don't worry, I've been told I'm a good tutor."

(…)

Cas never thought it would turn into a routine but soon he found himself preparing for Dean's every third day. At first they had just studied, not saying much but pleasantries but soon Dean suggested they watched a Western film. When he discovered that Cas liked them too, they discussed the greats like _The Good, the Bad and the Ugly, Unforgiven _and _Gold Rush._ It had been the longest discussion Cas had had with someone outside his family before and he liked it. There was something about Dean that calmed him down, like a flame melting the ice around him. Soon they branched out from movie and delved into different topics. Dean would speak of his dream to travel America and make something of his name but he had never known what. It had become something Cas craved, time with Dean. It got him through the day, made him feel safe and normal. It was just built into him. One day, Cas had asked if they could study by the lake and slowly but surely it became their place. Like a silent contract, always meet at the lake. Both of them sat against the trunk of a tree. The clouds were thick above them, the air cool and comforting. Nothing stirred, not even the leaves rustled. They just sat in a comfortable silence, together.

"I want to be a writer," said Cas suddenly, breaking the silence. He had never admitted this to anyone for fear of being called stupid but he trusted Dean. He knew the other boy wouldn't be that cruel. "It's just that, I love reading. You know, when I read I'm not in Lawrence anymore, I'm not even in my own body. I'm in this new world, a new person watching this adventure happen. One far too amazing to happen to the real life I live. I can decide how things look, sound, feel and… I always wanted someone to experience it from my writing. I want to transport people to new worlds, make them think…"

He stopped and looked at Dean instead of the lake, there was an odd look on his face. The side of his face turned into a smile. "Go on Cas, you don't need to stop."

Cas felt something rise in his chest. No one had ever looked at him like that, like they wanted to learn more about him. It was nice, to be selfish in a way.

"Take Lord of the Flies for example. Some people who only think with a straight forward mind would see it as a group of boys on an island, becoming savage. They'd think of the beast as some random thing they spoke off, they'd miss the hidden beauty-"

"Like Simon's death?"

"Yes! Well, not the death but afterwards. He died in savage darkness but was washed away in pure and calm light. Anyway, I want to write for people who really delve into the words, people who try to find the images I buried into each page. I think that clever writing is dying out, now people our age are more interested in the simple message, well some of them. They let their minds be plagued with preposterous vampires that sparkle or immortals… I don't know. I'd just like to make a difference through writing, educate the next generation. Does-does that make sense?"

Dean was silent for a moment, "It really does."

There was a flood of relief surging through Cas' heart. He didn't realise how much Dean's opinion meant to him. Dean pat him on the shoulder before turning back to the lake.

"Dean… are we friends?" The question seemed stupid, childish even but he needed to know. There was a worry that Dean only saw him as an acquaintance.

"Of course Cas. Why wouldn't you already think that?"

The flood of relief came rushing in again, and Cas relished in how it felt before he smiled, only lightly, and watched the still lake.

(…)

_One month later…_

"Alright class, debate time!"

Kripke clapped his hands together before turning to the board and writing "ROMEO AND JULIET" illegibly in white chalk. "I want one person to give me a reason for liking the play and another to say why they dislike it. Each of you will give this a go so don't think you're getting off scot-free. Okay… Jo, you're for the play-"

"Oh man," grumbled Jo as she stood and walked to the front of the class. Cas barely had time to dryly laugh before he realised he had been called up. Everyone watch him carefully as his chair scraped back and he made his way to the board.

"Castiel, you can go first."

Panic ran through his mind, what could he say? Cas wasn't against the play at all, he almost like it… "While Romeo and Juliet is a classic, it all seems fake. Even for Shakespeare. The couple themselves had only known each other for three days before they wanted to wed. No matter what, three days isn't enough to fall madly in love with someone let alone want to die for them. People forget that really they were children, rebellious maybe, but nonetheless… their love never really grasped me. To die for someone, means you had to live for them at one point too and the two of them never had done that. Yes, Romeo said somewhat romantic things to Juliet but he can' t have said it with love. Just lust. That's what the story was truly driven on, lust. It wasn't believable, everything just seemed fake. Because, like I said – we would only give up our lives for someone who we had lived for." He wasn't sure if what he had said made sense but just watched his class look up and watch him.

"Perfect Castiel," smiled Kripke. "Couldn't have said it better myself."

(…)

Dean and Cas made their way around the football pitch, walking swiftly to get out of the rain. Dean slipped ahead into the changing building at the end and Cas rushed in behind him. The scent of sweat and deodorant rushed to his nose and Cas held in his distain. The walls were tiled red and white, the lockers placed at the side of the room with two long benches running along the middle. Cas could hear the sound of a running shower around the corner.

"Don't be so nervous," laughed Dean as he pulled a bag from his locker. "You're gonna love them."

"It's not me I'm worried about. What-what if your family doesn't like me?"

"How is that even possible?

"I'm not good with people. You know that."

Dean shut his locker with a slight "bang", he sighed before letting his shoulders drop, "They will love you. Plus, my mom already loves you for helping me pass el espanol so-"

He was cut off by the sound of loud voices but one voice in particular rang out. Crowley. Over the past month, the other boy had been "punishing" Cas. The first week, it was simple and childish things but then it grew. Shoved into lockers, once pelted with stones, stolen belongings… but that was something Cas kept to himself. No one would see him as weak, not anymore.

Crowley appeared through the red doors, his usual dark smile on his face. He was flanked by two larger boys with crew cuts.

"Castiel, nice to see you. And look, there's Dean!"

There was nothing but arrogance and quip in his voice. Cas stood his ground, for once not backing away. Dean hitched his bag onto his shoulder and stood by Cas, the two of them a united front. Crowley made an odd face, like he was sickly amused.

"Gentlemen, I'm sure you're aware this is a room for _men. _Not girls."

Cas looked over at Dean who had clenched his jaw. The air in the room was thick with tension, but no one spoke. They just watched each other, anger clear on their faces.

"You did hear me, didn't you Dean?"

"Crowley, don't make me come over there and mess up that- well there really isn't much I could do to that face is there?"

There was a darkness to Dean's voice, something Cas had never heard before. It made him sound grave, dangerous.

"_Tutt, tutt. _Oh Dean, do you really think you can speak to me like that? That's almost laughable. Now, I told you to leave."

Cas could sense Dean's anger rising by the minute but why? "Come on Winchester," laughed Crowley, "get out." He turned to look at Cas, almost looking proud, "Do you know everything about him Castiel? I know you two have gotten close over the past couple of months but sometimes Dean-"

"Don't you dare!"

"Why not Dean? Don't you want him to know?" He didn't pause, just turned to Cas and blurted it, "Dean's gay Castiel. He's nothing but a little fag hiding in leather jackets."

Cas couldn't help the gasp he made but it made sense, didn't it? That day at the lake, when he had seen him with Lisa. That was the reason, of course.

"You had no right," growled Dean.

"Oh please, the whole school knows. You should have been more careful."

"You son of a bitch!"  
Dean surged forward, knocking Crowley to the ground. Cas watched as Dean planted punch after punch, slamming into the other boy's face. He dived forward and pulled him away before any real damage could be done but already Crowley was bleeding.

"Come on Dean," he ordered before leading him outside.

The air instantly cooled, the two of them just watching each other.

"Cas I-"

"Dean. You have nothing to be ashamed of. Nothing at all."

Dean looked almost surprised as Cas smiled, the first sincere smile he had made in so long. Because he meant it. Dean had nothing to worry about, no reason to feel ashamed. And Cas meant that, with his whole heart.

**A/N: *a little longer but… it needed to be done ***


	7. Familiar Friends

Chapter 07:

"_Even though I walk through the valley  
of the shadow of death,  
I fear no evil;  
for You are with me…"_

Cas let his fingers glide across the keys, not really thinking about what he was playing as the sound of the choir circled around him in the hall. It felt odd to be in the church, to smell the scent of the wood and watch as light spilt onto the floor in a kaleidoscope of colour below the stained glass window which has a tall angel towering over the world. As the chorus came around, Cas thought about what it must have been like to be an angel, to have such strong faith. He hated to admit that he could feel his faith shaking, ever since he could remember he was nothing like his brothers, he didn't think about the Father when he was about to sin, he didn't pray…that was what shocked him the most. For the son of a vicar, he was one of the least devout he knew. He was nowhere as bad as Anna but if his thought's weren't with God, where were they?

"_Forever…"_

The soprano solo slowly died down to nothing more than a whisper and Cas played the last few keys with a steady hand and felt the eyes of the choir watching him as they always did. He had to admit that he liked to hear them sing, especially when they sung _The Lord is My Shepard_, there was something about their merging voices that sounded angelic and pure.

"Okay guys! That was great, Ellen we're going to have to go over your solo but great guys. When we open no one's going to know what hit they!"

Balthazar smiled at them all once more before dismissing everyone and disappearing into one of the back rooms. Cas stood from the piano and pushed away, wiping his slightly sweaty hands on his trousers. It was too hot for his liking, the sunlight streaming through making him sweat and he pushed off his trench coat, dropping it onto the medium grand. From the corner of his eye, he thought he could see someone watch him and saw his father, a tired look on his face, storm out of his office with a forlorn look. Cas moved in closer, as if he was scared of spooking a deer. Michael followed quickly, a pained expression on his face.

"Father, I thought it would be best-"

"No! Michael, you didn't care about your brother at all did you. You've seen what he did to himself because of her and you go and do this! I don't want to look at you."

Cas had never seen this before, his father snapping at the perfect son. That had been how it had always been , Michael had always been the favourite, the perfect child…

"Father please!" he moved in closer, watching the door in case anyone was to walk into the church, "I did this for _us._"

Cas held in his breath and watched as his father raised his head and turned to look at him. There was no shock in his eyes, no remorse…just pity. "Tell that to him."

_Me! _He looked down at his cuffs and shuddered, of course it had been about him. "What-"

Before he could finish, his father stormed out of the room and Michael ran out calling for him, barely giving Cas a glance. What could Michael do that was that bad? The two of them hadn't spoken much since Cas had been in hospital but he doubted that his brother would do more to ruin their relationship. Or at least he hoped.

(…)

The words began to jumble on the screen, each sentence sounding faker than the last.

_I need you, I do but if you ask me to choose between you and my dreams, you will lose. I love you Beth, I do… all I can do is think about your smile, your laugh, the way your eyes crinkle when you scrunch up your face but none of it matters! None of it matters because I don't belong her, I belong out there. In a world so far away from all thi-_

"I give up."

He sighed and dropped down onto his bed, allowing his body to jump up and down on the mattress. His eyes ached and he attempted to blink it out but it came to no avail.

"Cas, maybe you just need to take a break-" Dean sighed and pushed off the floor, moving towards the bed, "It's not as bad as you're making it out to be."

Cas looked up at his friend and smiled. All the awkwardness he had once felt around Dean had slowly melted away and left nothing but a warm glow in him. He knew Dean well, he could draw him without even thinking – each bump and curve embedded into his mind, the colour of his eyes always flashing – the way he held himself, that leather jacket…

"It sounds fake," he replied suddenly, breaking himself from his revire, "I've never been in love, how can I possibly write this."

Dean shrugged and dropped down onto the space beside him, their shoulders just touching. "I don't think they'd be in love yet," he sighed. "I mean they've known each other for what, a year? But before then he never said he loved her, just implied it. I think it's more lust than anything."

"I didn't mean-"

"No, no I think it's good. It's real, if you know what I mean. Man, I dunno, haven't you felt lust before?"

"I don't think so…"

"You must have! You are a teenager aren't you? Hasn't there ever been someone you just want to "be with"?"

Cas could feel his face getting hot and turned away, not wanting Dean to see his face though he didn't know why.

(…)

The morning sky was clear and blue as Cas pushed back his curtains and blinked. He could hear his door swing open from behind him and waited for the sound of Anna's voice telling him to get out of bed.

"Castiel. We need to talk."

Michael.

Cas turned to face his brother with a neutral expression. It was still shocking, their differences that we so obvious. Michaels hair was smoothed down and his stare vacant as he moved in slowly.

"I…I don't know how to start this Castiel but I did it because I had to-"

"Please tell me this has nothing to do with Meg. Michael, please-"

He reached out for his brother, praying for some form of reassurance but there was nothing.

"You know I am not a liar, or at least I try not to be."

"Then you're just an honest man with one brother. I told you Michael, meddle in this and you and I will no longer be brothers."

Michael ran his hands through his hair and groaned, his face filled with frustration. There was something different about it, he had a look about him that seemed venomous, like Lucifer before he fell. Angry and calm.

"How bad can it really be? I know you Castiel, you crave the attention this gets you. All you want-"

Cas turned away and walked, he didn't want to hear this, not from Michael.

"You're only walking away because you know I'm right."

That was it. All the pain, all the anger rose in Cas. How dare his brother be this obtuse! How dare he- without thinking, Cas spun on his heel and pulled down his sleeve to reveal his scars.

"SHE MADE ME DO THIS MICHAEL!" He breathed out heavily, "I…I felt so alone and pathetic and weak, like I was nothing. There is no reason for me to explain myself to you, I don't owe you anything. And whatever you did, I don't want to know."

There was nothing he could say, nothing else he wanted to utter so he ran up the stairs and slammed his door shut. He could feel himself sliding down the door and onto the hard floor, clutching his wrist. He squeezed, feeling the searing pain on his skin but he didn't care, the pain was good.

(…)

He sat at the lake, watching the still water in silence. The faint sunlight streamed up above, no cars drove past and Cas had never felt more serene. He blinked before he pulled out a brown paper bag from his satchel and opened the bottle inside. The stench of alcohol was shocking and Cas winced slightly as he tipped the bottle to his mouth and allowed the fiery liquid to swirl inside him. Part of him thought about calling Dean to pick him up, he was too drunk to drive himself and he didn't want to go home to his families gaze, all of them judging him. But he didn't want Dean to see him like this, he didn't want anyone –

The bushes parted beside him and a group of cheerleaders from the school emerged, draped on football players laughing wildly. Crowley followed behind, looking shocked to see Cas holding a bottle to his lips.

"Cassie, I didn't think you'd be so quick on the drink again."

He stood up and tried to push past them but Crowley felt like he was made of stone. "Do you mind?"

"Come on Cassie, don't you want to hang out with us?"

A girl pushed him around and Cas realized it was the girl from the party and backed away. "That last time I "hung out with you" I ended up in hospital."

She laughed coyly and twirled a strand of her hair in her finger, "I promise it won't happen this time."

She thrust another bottle into his hand and Cas could feel the cool glass on his skin and hear the sloshing liquid. He was about to reject their offer when he remembered Michael, remembered Meg…he wanted to forget them both.

"Fine," he said and tipped his head back, feeling the alcohol in his veins.

_**A/N – sorry this took so long and it sort of cut up but I had exams and it was hard to get back into the story but hopefully it'll be back to normal :)**_


	8. Drunk Little Soldier

Chapter 8:

The manuscript was covered in lines of blotchy ink, the edges weathered away. Cas wondered how long Chuck had kept them with him, waiting for someone to continue to read his story about the travelling brothers who fought demons. Even though Cas was unsure as to whether it was down to the plot or the alcohol, he liked it. He read the page in his usual quick pace and smirked, "Well, there's not so much _tension _with the brothers but the angel, why doesn't the eldest just admit he loves him."

Chuck laughed awkwardly, running a hand through his messy hair, "There isn't any- let me see that." He snatched the manuscript from his friend's hand and read the page quickly, his muddy eyes large behind his glasses, "I, ah, I kind of like it. I mean it gives some- oh never mind. I don't know why I'm even asking you. You're just drunk the whole time now."

Cas shrugged and fell back on the bleacher, his face looking up to the clear sky and the bright sun the lit the world. The air smelt sweet, like burnt syrup wafting through the air and circling towards him. He felt warm, like his insides were lit by an intense flame filled with pleasure, he felt invincible. Chuck hadn't been wrong, since meeting Crowley by the lake, Cas had been stuck in an intoxicated stupor. He had no idea how no one at home hadn't noticed except Anna, who merely patted him on the back. It was clear that others had become annoyed with him, Jo would snap at him easily, Ash would roll his eyes but Cas didn't care. His pain was fading and that was all he needed. Part of him changed when he was intoxicated, like he could do whatever he wanted and no one could stop him. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his flask, smelling his father's Spanish liquor and tipped it back, the sweet and fiery liquid scorching his throat.

"I don't understand why you do it?" Jo asked, staring intently at her pen knife.

"You don't need to," he replied curtly. "I thought that you were all my friends, and friends trusted the decisions one another made."

"Unless that friend is putting themselves in danger!" she snapped, " Cas this isn't healthy-"

Ash sighed loudly, bringing everyone's attention to him. He pulled down on his trucker's cape and sat facing the field of cheerleaders who waved large pom-poms in some sort of timed dance. "Let him do what he wants, he's not going to listen to the rest of us."

Cas knew Ash meant those words bitterly but he still reclined his head in a way of thanks. Because it was true, he _didn't _care what they said. With each sip, the thoughts of Michael's betrayal, Meg…they all faded away. He turned to explain that there were things they couldn't understand when a loud whistle pierced the air. A woman – who had a tight brown pony tail and wore knee length shorts – called out for the football players. Each of them turned in like knights being called in by their king and watched as the coach yelled out instructions. Cas leaned forward and strained to hear when they all broke off, Dean jogging lightly towards them.

"I miss Coach Kripke," he smiled as he dropped down beside them. "I mean, Coach Gamble has some good plays but she's no good as a coach half the time."

"Kripke? Like the English teacher?" asked Jo, looking slightly wide-eyed.

"The very same, he decided he belonged indoors and changed his field. I miss the old guy."

He turned and looked up at Cas with sad eyes. Cas could almost see the bright green, emerald like shade turn to resemble trampled grass. Part of him wished he could stop shaking, stop wobbling and just pretend he was sober for Dean's sake but he couldn't.

"Cas, I need to speak to you."

No one else seemed to interject or even look interested as Cas and Dean departed from the bleachers and headed around the corner of the field. It looked out onto the drama building, an old crumbling thing that Cas guessed was made in haste when the school was first built. The bricks looked almost mismatched and quickly slapped together, the tiles on the roof faded and loose, the window streaked with years of grime. Maybe it had once looked interesting, maybe even pretty what with the tinted windows it had streaming into the crush area but now it just looked broken, desolate, sad. Dean stepped on the hard path and snaked his way through the others students who too, were taking advantage of the hot day. Cas noticed Lisa on the soft grass, tipping down her sunglasses and watching his friends walk through, he wondered what she was thinking but from the look on her face – it wasn't something he wanted to know. Finally they reached a small alcove, hidden away from others in between the corner of the main building. Dean jumped in, tucking his knees close to his chest and Cas scurried in behind him, from where he sat he could see everyone. He could hear pencil scribbling on paper, people laughing, singing birds and Dean's low, husky breathing.

"So to what do I owe the pleasure?" he asked with more bravado than he actually had.

Dean pointed to the flask that still remained in Cas' hand, "That. I want to talk to you about that."

"If you don't like the flask I can get-"

"Cas! This isn't funny. I'm worried about you, I don't like seeing you like this."

Cas only paused for a moment before unscrewing the flask once again and tipping more liquor into his throat. "That's awful sweet of you but I –"

"Don't care," finished Dean. "I know. Just listen to me, this is serious. You're causing all this harm to your body and it's not good for you."

Cas rolled his eyes at the other boy and prepared to leave when Dean grabbed his wrist. Panic rose in Cas as he watched Dean's grip and he tried to pull away from him. _No, please don't._ his mind was still clouded by the alcohol but the panic was like a glaring alarm, almost pleading with him.

"Let go of me Dean, let go-"

He snatched his hand away, leaving the other boy with his hands still laid out. They were workers hands, calluses formed from years of playing the guitar, scars from wood shop and football games, normal scars that a normal person would have had. Cas surged forward but he could feel Dean right behind him. The boy reached out for him but Cas managed to bat him away before he felt his arm getting grabbed and Dean pulled down his sleeve. The red scars looked even more puckered and bright in the sunlight, not fresh looking but still new. Cas could almost see small dents in them from where he had squeezed on them before and tried to wretch his hand back but Dean was too strong and just looked down at them.

"Cas- Cas I…" When he looked up, Cas wanted to run away. Dean had never looked at him with such sadness, despair, such pity. _Only pathetic people receive pity, _she had once told him, _the strong are the ones who suffer with their scars in silence. _

He could imagine everything in Dean's head so clearly that he wanted to pull down his sleeves and run from the boy, never returning. Dean would never look at him the same way again, from now on he'd just be that little friend he had, the friend who was weak.

(…)

Cas had run from the school after he had managed to get his hand back from Dean. All he could think about was his past, the scared small boys who had grown to be an equally scared teenager. It had been hours since he had run from the alcove and even though he was still tipsy, his driving seemed to remain unaffected. As the car sped down the road, billows of dust rolled around him, the flat planes the only thing to watch as the night sky remained still about him, just the stars blinking and watching.

(…)

The door gave way with a slight kick, the way it always once had. Cas tripped in through the doorway, dropping his keys into the small bowl that still remained on the side drawer below a large mirror. The entrance way was still as sumptuous as Cas remembered, the stairs spiralled to the side, plush rug covered plots of otherwise glossy wood and from the corner, he spotted the edge of a leather sofa. Cas stepped in slowly, as if he was afraid to disturb some slumbering inhabitants. It smelt the same, of peat and leather and as he stepped further in, he saw some pictures of his family still remained around. His father had decided not to sell this house, making the decision to keep it incase any of them wished to return but Cas had the feeling that it would remain unused for a while. He shivered from the cool air and decided to hurry further in, remembering that no matter what, this was more his home than hers. He dropped down onto the floor and scurried over to the hidden liquor cabinet he knew his father had. He pulled open a small hatch, pulling out a stack of books before he hit the wooden base. It felt hollow and he pressed against it, the wood slipping easily back to reveal a neat row of glass bottles holding rich whiskeys. Cas pulled out a selection, swiped a glass and dropped onto one of the sofa's, not even pausing as he opened the first bottle with his teeth.

(…)

_It was a bright day, the faint light of the sun spreading in pools along the bottom of the window sill. Cas sat on the lounger, no older than eleven or so, his small hands flicking through the pages of a book. It was falling apart at the spine, the pages clinging on for dear life but young Cas didn't seem to mind, he was just incredibly careful. Above him was the sound of laughter and a moment later, his two brothers hurried down the steps, both still laughing. Balthazar had slung a guitar case over his shoulder and placed it gently against the back of a sofa before ruffling Cas' hair and disappearing into the kitchen. The front door opened a moment after and Cas' father walked in followed by a pretty lady with dark hair and a wide smirk._

"_Castiel, this is your Aunt Meg. On your mother's side."_

_Cas slid his bookmark into his page and stood to greet his aunt, shaking her hand with a smile before wiping his sweaty hand on his pants leg. Meg gave him a kiss on the cheek before turning back to his father, "He'll be fine with me. I need to learn to look after kids anyway. And he looks like a good kid-"_

"_He is. I'm trusting you Meg," sighed Cas' father before he called for Michael and Balthazar. The two brothers emerged together, Balthazar trying to juggle three oranges carefully but with one tip from Michael, they fell to the ground, soft thuds against the wood._

"_Okay little guy, take care of Meg," winked Michael as he ruffled Cas' hair like Balthazar had. "We'll be back soon."_

_He nodded diligently and sat back on the lounger, picking up his book once again waiting for the sound of the door shutting behind his family. Meg sat down across him, crossing her legs and clasping her hand around her knee. _

"_What shall be do?" asked Cas absently, his eyes drifting from his page. "We could fly kites? It's windy today so that would be nice, or we could…"_

"_How about some hot chocolate?"_

_It was an easy enough question, one that he should have answered quickly with a _yes _but there had been something about the way she had said it, like it was more of a demand than a question. _

"_No…no thank you-"_

_Meg stood and came to stand in front of him in what felt like a matter of nano seconds. "Of course you do, come on." She extended a hand out for him and Cas felt like he had no choice but to move forward and take it. She led him to the kitchen and made him sit at the island where the gas stove stood. Meg rummaged through the cupboards and picked out some bars of chocolate, pulled out some milk from the fridge and a pod of vanilla. Absently, she popped three bowls onto the counter and filled a pot with water. Cas remained still, watching as the water began to boil and bubble ferociously. Meg stretched a hand over the rising steam that wafted from the pot until she pulled away and winced. She walked so that she was behind Cas and took his hand._

"_Aunt Meg, what are you-"_

"_Do you remember your mother Castiel?"_

_The question was so out of the blue that he could feel himself tensing up, "I…no, she died when I was born." He wished Michael or his father would burst through the door and save him. Why had they left him with hjer?_

"_I remember her. She had your eyes, and she was so kind and sweet. Always laughing, always giving advice and then you came along." _

_The pot seemed to rattle in front of Cas and he tried to back away, to run but Meg held onto him too strong, "I don't understand, what do you want me to do?"_

"_Nothing little boy. You killed my sister, now I will punish you."_

_Before Cas could stop her, Meg plunged his hand into the boiling water. He screamed, he screamed so loud he could almost feel blood rising in his throat. His skin felt like it was on fire, bubbling and puckering. Cas squirmed on the seat as Meg pushed his hand further in, her laughter intertwining with his screams of pain. _

"_PLEASE STOP! PLEEA- AHH!" _

_Everything hurt and Cas could feel the fire rising in him, the pain making its way through his body. Finally, Meg pulled his hand out and threw him to the floor. His hand was bright red, throbbing with lines of blood smearing the skin. He sobbed loudly, clutching it to his chest and rocking back and forth on the floor. He could see Meg from the corner of his eye, popping square bars of chocolate into a bowl and placing it over the boiling water._

"_When your father sees that, you tell him you saw the pot left unattended and reached out to tough the water. You were too shocked to move your hand and I saved you. Do you hear me Castiel? Tell anyone of this and I will not be responsible for my actions."_

_Cas could feel more sobs rising in his chest as he nodded and was sent to his room, told to await his drink though he knew he would only taste blood. He ran to his en suite and plunged his hand in ice cold water, feeling some of the heat sear sharply before fading. Cas looked into the mirror, glassy blue eyes staring back at him. "_You killed my sister."

(…)

Cas woke with a start and immediately clutched his hand. He remembered that first time so well that he could still feel the burning sensation, still feel his skin bubble, hear her laughter. What eight year old had nightmares about their aunt, what eight year old went through that terror. He could still remember the lies he had told, remember how sick he felt when he watched Balthazar take a sip of the hot chocolate completely unaware. He-

_Creak_

Someone was in the house. Cas slowly rose from the sofa and stepped back, reached for the baseball bat kept at the side of the fireplace. Once it was secure in his hands, Cas made his way forward to where the sound was coming from. Silently, he made his way to the old spare room and opened the door a crack. It was painted scarlet red, a new bed in the middle and…

"Oh Cassy, what did I tell you about snooping?"

Cas turned so quickly that he shocked even himself but he slammed himself against the wall. No, no how could that even be? It couldn't, no, there was no way he could deny who the figure was.

Meg.

(…)

"Get away from me!" he yelled. "Don't come any closer."

Meg raised her hands in the air, in the international sign of surrender and backed away. While time had aged Cas, she looked the exact same. Her hair was in the same neat, black curls, her smile still menacing, her skin golden.

"You don't seem happy to see me."

"I can think of a few reasons as to why that is, can't you?"

Her hands wavered at her side before they completely dropped and she took one full step from Castiel. She looked almost ashamed and he was glad for it. She deserved more than just being shamed, she had ruined his life, ruined his family.

"Cas, what I did to you…I have to let you know that I had my reasons."

"I HAD JUST MET YOU!" he screamed, tears making his vision go blurry. "You tortured me mere minutes after we met, and for what? My mother?"

He pointed the bat out to face her, trying to stop it from shaking violently but he could see the tip of the wooden club shaking like some scared Chihuahua. Meg took another step back, lessening the intensity of his shoulders by a little. "Why are you in my house?" he snapped.

"It's mine now, Michael sold it to me."

Cas could feel the shock seep through him. The idea off Michael selling this place to _her _ disgusted him and he tried to keep any comments to himself.

"Very well then, I shall leave." Part of him wished to run and collect the family pictures but the rest of him just wanted to be as far away from Meg as possible. He turned on his heel and made for the door, glad that he'd soon feel the night air on his skin.

"We need to talk about this Castiel!"

"No, we don't," he growled.

(…)

Cas woke up with a pounding headache. He lay on top of his covers, the only things he had been stripped of were his shoes and socks which had been placed neatly beside the door. He pulled the alarm over to him and gasped at the time, 16:42 it read and Cas realised he had been asleep for more than 14 hours. He slipped from the bed and stretched, his bones aching in pleasure, when his phone buzzed. The name "DEAN" began to flash and Cas was hesitant as he swipe his finger across the screen. Before he could speak, Dean's voice broke through.

"CAS! Oh thank god man, look it's me. Anna's been hurt, I need to see you now!"

Cas could feel dread rising about him, Not Annae, the one who always complained but made him laugh. The one who never really judged him.

"I'm on my way," he replied groggily.

(…)

He stood in the Winchester's, his breath ragged as he bent over double. The light bounced off the waxy leaves, bright green grass almost glowing. Bright flowers bloomed at the centre of the perfectly mowed lawn, fruits and vegetables growing in abundance at the side. Cas called out Dean before tumbling to the grass beneath. A face loomed over him, blocking the sunlight.

"Catching up one some beauty sleep?"

It was Dean, Cas could tell without even looking. He had begun to remember the other boy's scent, leather and old spice. Cas stood immediately and brushed the grass from his trench coat.

"I didn't come here for _you _or your conversational skills," sighed Cas. "What happened to Anna?"

"She's fine, I lied about her being hurt. There was something I needed to show you."

He had a hand outstretched for Cas but dropped it when he saw the other boy just staring at it. Dean had decided to pull Cas into a shed at the end of the garden and shut the door behind them. It was homely, the smell of new plants were sweet and unmistakable. Cas stood in a small entryway and felt Dean cover his eyes with his hands. Before he could protest, Dean pushed him into the room and removed his hands.

Cas had never gasped so loudly. Blue lights bounced off the side of the wide shelves, rows of TV's played images of wales and fish swimming gracefully around then. Above him was a large mural of a whale, done with an expert sense of care, like it was specially crafted.

"It's…it's like the museum in New York."

"I know, "smirked Dean. "I remember you saying how much you liked the marine section so much , that you'd lie on the floor so I thought I would make the next best thing."

Cas couldn't help the smile that covered his face, blue light splashing off him and the odd hum of the screens oddly soothing. He imagined himself lying on the floor in New York, just looking up. "And here I thought I was being led into some sort of sex torture chamber," he giggled, reminding himself that he was still somewhat tipsy.

"I don't tend to do that till the second date," smirked Dean as he walked to stand by Cas. "I'm sorry, about looking at those scars. It was none of my business, and if one day you ever want to talk about it I'm right here."

And Cas knew Dean was being honest, he'd never just leave. He would always be there for him. He turned to face him head one, smelling the Old Spice and relishing in how familiar it smelt. He knew Dean, Dean's face, his smile, his favourite food and no one had ever done anything even close to this wonderful for him. Would it be so bad? Would it be wrong if he just tried?

"Cas, are you okay?"

He wasn't and smiled, saying he needed a minute outside before escaping. Quickly, he pulled out a spare flask he had had in his pocket and knocked it all back, trying not to wretch. Already he felt giddy again but brave as he wobbled back in. One look at Dean and he almost felt sober again. Some point in their relationship, Dean's eyes had turned from wondering to home, like he could read everything.

"Umm-"

Before he could speak, Cas pulled on his lapels making them the same height and slammed their lips together. At first it was sloppy but he could feel Dean deepening the kiss, his hands slowly skimming down to Cas' waist. Cas moved in closer, pressing his body to Dean and letting a small moan escape his lips. This was more fire than any of the alcohol he had drank, there was an animal in him the was raging and craving more, more of Dean. Cas let Dean nuzzle his neck, soft, sweet kissing leaving traces of heat on his cool skin. He moaned more and pushed Dean towards a small desk in the corner of the room. He wondered when Dean would push him away, tell him to stop but each kiss turned that into something distant. The collided with the desk and Dean hoisted Cas onto it, making them about the same height. His hands snaked up to his neck and his rough fingers knotted into his hair. _Fire and Ice. _Cas could feel himself shaking, a good sort of shake where he felt like he was slowly becoming alive. It was the most natural thing he had ever done, to be held in Dean's arms. He thought of the events that led him hear and he could suddenly hear the bubbling of his skin and pushed away. Dean, surprised, tumbled to the floor and looked up at Cas in bewilderment.

"I…I'm sorry," he gasped. "I should never have, I'm sorry."

"No, no I should have stopped you," breathed out Dean but Cas could read what he really thought in his eyes. _I didn't want to stop you._

Cas didn't know what to say, he wasn't like Dean. At least, he didn't think he was. And their kiss had been so brief, could it actually mean anything? He dropped from the desk and offered Dean a hand up, the other boy just watched it in silence like Cas had done outside. Dean's face glowed the blue of the screens, making his green eyes look somehow dark. He dropped his hand slowly and ran from the shed, into the cool air and away from Dean. All Cas could do once he turned to corner was to fall to the sidewalk concrete and pop open his flask, confused as to how he felt, confused as to what he wanted, as to who he was.


	9. Nothing but Mistakes

Cas could feel a pair of disapproving eyes looking down at him without even looking up. His entire body ached, each bone felt like it had been replaced with marble and weighed him down to the floor. His head was swimming, only snippets of the night before coming out clearly.

"Get up," said a low voice.

Cas did as he was told, slowly uncurling his body and opening his eyes, letting the bright lighting shock him as he pushed up. All of his body wanted to tumble down to the ground and remain there, to lay in an inebriated slumber but he fought against it and finally stood shakily on his two feet.

"Will you tell me what happened the night before?"

His father stood in front of him, his dark eyes staring into him. His heart began to beat faster as he watched his father, noticing the little things about him that showed his anger.

"I cannot."

"And why is that Castiel? Why can you not tell me anything?"

This was always the case. His father would always make him feel so much worse than he already felt. Shame shrouded around Cas as his father's blue eyes scanned him. He was waiting.

"Because I was drunk father. I went against your rules and-"

He stopped, allowing memories to slowly fill his mind, and anger began to spill through.

"Where is Michael?"

There was a pause before he spoke again, with more conviction, "Father, where is Michael?"

"Has he told you?"

Cas didn't bother answering him, his blood was growing warmer, his screams subdued, "Where is he?"

"The study. Castiel-"

Before he could finish, Cas bound from the room and made his way through the house. His body felt heavy, his mind still shaking but blind rage steered him forward until he pushed open the door to the study with a bang. Balthazar and Michael sat at the desk, books spread across the wooden surface and mugs of cold coffee left dangerously close to the edge. Both of his brothers stood at once, eyes wide.

"Castiel," breathed Balthazar, extending his hands as if he was going to hold him back.

Michael on the other hand remained silent, his eyes looked grave. Castiel could see the regret in the air around him, he could almost imagine his brother's silky voice trying to soothe him, to tell him his reasons but he didn't want to hear any of it. Without even thinking, he rushed forward, sliding away from Balthazar and straight into Michael. His face smashed into his cheek, his leg swooping down and knocking the other boy to the ground. Cas pushed forward, smashing his foot into Michael's ribs over and over again, the image of Meg slowly clouding his judgement. _You deserve to be punished. You do not deserve happiness._ Cas could feel the hot tears on his cheeks, he could hear himself screaming as he continued to attack his brother until he felt Balthazar grab him and haul him backward. Cas thrashed, kicking into the air and screaming. From the corner of his eye he could see splatters of blood on the carpet but he didn't care.

"WHY DID YOU DO IT MICHAEL! WHY DID YOU LET HER IN?"

The door slammed in front of him and Balthazar spun Cas before slamming him into the wall. His brother was breathing heavily, he looked unusually angry. Like a live wire.

"What the hell was that? Cas- Cas look at me!"

"He sold Meg the house…the house where she-" He stopped and watched his brother, "Let me go."

"No! No, I won't. Is it because of…because of your wrists?"

Balthazar waited for an answer but Cas refused to give him on. He knew he was being reckless but he didn't care, he just needed to escape the house.

"Castiel, listen to me!"

He turned away and shut his eyes, trying to calm the raging bull inside him, "Why should I?"

"Because I'm your brother, I love you Cassie and I know this isn't you. Micheal, he's on that floor coughing up blood and…"

"He means nothing to me. Nor do you. Both of you are just ants, father's lackeys. _I'm _the one who will leave him, _I'm _the one who will become someone. Me."

"Castiel-"

"He did this to me too! He could have stopped her! But he left me to die, on my own!"

Cas pushed forward, sending Balthazar to the floor and breathed out, "You are both ants." He stepped away, feeling his insides turn cold. He meant none of those words but he felt angry, he hated everything and wished he was back on the floor, curled up in a blissful sleep.

"I won't come after you Castiel. I mean it. Walk away and forget this house, because I'm tired. I'm so tired."

Cas paused, and held in the tears that were gathering in his eyes, they burned him and he felt like a child being scolded. He didn't speak, just continued to walk until he was out of Balthazar's sight, and then he began to run.

(x)

The church was silent as Cas made his way through the pews. He found it ironic that the one of the things he resented being brought up with was what he hoped would bring him peace. He was in the same clothes as the night before, feeling them stick to his skin made him feel uneasy but he tried to block it from his mind as he knelt onto his knees and looked up, clasping his hands.

"Father…Father I know I have done wrong, and that I do not deserve it but I pray for your forgiveness. I'm lost, that's all I really know. I'm so lost and I don't know where to turn, but that is no excuse for my sins. Help me Father, send me a sign or…or something that will help me onto the right path."

He knelt in the silence, clenching his eyes as if he was waiting for a voice to speak to him but nothing came. Cas waited for another minute before his body gave way and he tumbled to the floor. He let the tears flow down his cheeks. He hated himself for what he did to Michael, he hated himself for what he said to Balthazar, he hated Meg for what she had done to him. He hated himself.

_What am I going to do?_

Inside his coat pocket, Cas felt his phone vibrate and saw the usual picture of Anna's smiling face looking up at him. He flipped it open without a thought, just as he always did.

"Anael if-"

"CASTIEL JUDE DUBOIS! What have you done? I come home to find Michael on the floor and Bally crying? He said you left, gone! Where the HELL are you!"

"I don't think Uncle Jeb would be happy with you using the word-"

"Castiel, now is not the time." Her voice sounded grave, something so odd that Castiel immediately shut up. "Come home, now."

"Balthazar told me-"

"Screw him. He's upset Castiel, we all are. We're all so-"

"Tired."

"-worried. That's all we do nowadays."

Cas lay down on the floor and sighed, "I need time."

"Take all the time you need, but be home soon. I mean it, you come home soon."

Cas didn't bother speaking, just nodded as if she could see him and shut the phone with a simple movement. He thought of Michael on the floor, like a child. Just like he had once been. _What really makes you different from Meg? What makes you better than her?_

"Nothing," Cas answered aloud. "Nothing at all."

(x)

Rather than going home, Cas spent the night at a hotel just twenty minutes from school. He didn't sleep, just watched old movies till he was between passing out and going crazy with sleep deprivation which was when he hopped into a freezing cold shower. Beforehand he had bought new clothes and was lucky enough to have his school books in his car. If anyone was to look at him in school they would just see normal Cas, not the real person on the inside. Not the person who wanted to sit in the corner and cry. He had to be stronger than that.

Cas shrugged on his black shirt and blazer, deciding to wash his trench coat and let it dry. As he stepped out, the air was cool and brisk knocking all of his senses awake. The air had an odd blue tinge to it, puffy clouds drifting lazily across the horizon. He walked to school in a rush, timing his steps until he finally saw the crumbling building. A small smile crept along his face as he rushed up the steps and pushed through the door.

_Smack!_

Cas opened the door to see Crowley jumping onto someone, slamming a fist into their face. He froze, half in and half out the door and just watched as the body was punched over and over. Cas looked up and caught sight of Jo and Ash running towards the hall with panic across their faces, Chuck trailing behind slightly and a pang of fear rushed through him. He moved forward, pushing through the ring of students surrounding the fight and waited but he didn't come. Cas turned and could see a flash of leather, a hand and a small amulet that looked familiar.

"Dean!"

He jumped onto Crowley's back, holding on by his neck and pulled the boy back. Dean lay on the floor gasping for air as Crowley threw Cas into lockers. He felt a jarring pain run up him as the jock grabbed him by his collar and hoisted him upward before ramming a fist into his stomach. All the air was knocked from Cas as he was dropped onto the hard floor. He turned to see Dean get to his feet and run for Crowley. He kicked upwards, his boot knocking at the other boy's jaw but then Cas saw it, the glint of a blade. Cas struggled to his feet and reached out for Crowley, dragging him away from Dean and grabbed the hilt of the blade. A wave of gasps came from the crowd as they watched Cas throw it to the floor.

"That was mine," growled Crowley.

"Don't be a sissy, fight like a real man." Cas raised his head hoping that he looked like he had some courage. Crowley scowled and bent to pick up the knife.

"I'll come back for you Dubois, don't think I won't."

(x)

"Dean, Dean slow down!"

Cas skimmed through the lunch queue and joined Dean as he picked up a slice of apple pie. His green eyes glanced up slightly before he turned away. Cas tried to hold in his annoyance and picked up a slice of cake that he had no intention of eating.

"Dean are you ever going to talk to me?"

"About what?"

"About the increase of aliens, that's a top issue. What do you think? I walk in this morning to see you and Crowley fighting like animals!"

Dean passed the lunch lady his money before turning and watching Cas.

"You didn't have to get involved."

"He-" Cas stopped as he handed his money and moved away, whispering this time, "He had a knife Dean. You could have gotten killed."

"And would you care?"

He looked at him with utter sincerity, Cas could almost see the sadness in his eyes. Why was he so sad?

"Yes, of course I would. You're my friend Dean."

"Right," he nodded with a fake smile. "Of course you are."

He walked away and sat down at the usual table by the window, Cas following in close pursuit. Part of Cas wanted to know what was happening to Dean but the other half wanted to tell him all about what had happened the night before. But Dean was more important, Dean deserved someone who listened.

"What happened? Why were you fighting?"

Dean popped a piece of pie into his mouth and bit down on the fork slightly, "He told my parents- he told them about me."

"And they weren't okay with it?

"Mom was, and Sammy but…my dad always thought I'd be the first to bring him grandkids and now…"

"You could adopt. When you find someone you love and are happy there's nothing stopping you."

The corner of Dean's mouth rose, "Maybe, who knows."

Cas smiled too, slicing his fork through his cake. He knew he should ask Dean why he had been blunt earlier but he thought it best to leave alone. The two of them ate in a comfortable silence and it was almost as if nothing had happened. As if when they bell rung they would go back to their normal homes but that wasn't the case of course.

"Did I ever tell you about my friend Adam?"

Cas looked up a little confused, "No, I don't think so."

Dean sighed and looked upwards for a moment and bit on his lip, "He was my best friend and he went to this school where kids were pretty homophobic. They attacked him after a football game and he died, in my arms. I held him and called the ambulance but other than that I did nothing…" He stopped and awkwardly laughed, "I don't know why I'm telling you. But life's shot Cas and I don't want to hide from anything."

"Right," Cas replied, unsure of what to see.

"Never mind man, it clearly doesn't matter."

(x)

Cas stood in the driveway, looking through the window and into the study. He watched as Anna passed Michael a mug and kissed his forehead as he lay on the couch. Balthazar paced across the room, skimming a hand through his hair and in the background stood their father, his face looked so pale, like a ghost. Cas wanted to walk through the door, drop to his knees and beg for forgiveness but he couldn't be near them again. He couldn't hurt them again.

(x)

That night, Cas dreamed of everything but Meg. He dreamed of running through fields, of flying with angels, he dreamt he was a character in Chuck's story and then he dreamed something completely different.

_He was in a dark room, a pair of hands snaking up his arms and towards his neck. The person had a tough that sent a flash of euphoria through him. He moved forward and pressed his lips to the other person who moaned against them._

"_Oh Cas," the voice moaned._

_Dean. Cas felt himself pushing against him, their skin scratching against one another. Cas could feel himself growing lighter as Dean pushed in closer, his hands skimming along the waistband of his jeans._

"_Can I?" called Dean's voice, a hint of laughter tingled into his voice._

_Cas nodded and felt Dean's hands unbuttoning his jeans and pushed them down, he paused at his boxers but Cas could feel his fingers tingle across the material. He hoped Dean would skim again, the wave of pleasure he felt was almost addictive. He moved forward and tore open Dean's shirt, feeling the abs beneath. Dean laughed seductively as Cas ran his hands across him and gasped._

"_Whatever you want Cas. I'm all yours."_

Cas woke up in bed, sweat covering him causing his clothes to stick to his skin. The hotel television blared with images of the cartoon he had been watching before. He blinked as Mako stroked Korra's scar and turned away, breathing heavily. He could still feel Dean's touch, his desire and hid his head under the covers.

It was different, it was new. It felt all too right.


	10. Crime and Punishment

"_Those who find ugly meanings in beautiful things are corrupt without being charming. This is a fault. Those who find beautiful meanings in beautiful things are the cultivated. For these there is hope. They are the elect to whom beautiful things mean only Beauty. There is no such thing as a moral or an immoral book. Books are well written, or badly written. That is all." _

The words swam in the page in front of him, blurring into an uncomprehendible mesh. Cas shut the book and leaned back in the squeaking chair, allowing himself to relax back into the hard chair of his room. The room itself was regularly sized, a wide window looked out into the dreary rolling town, and above the sky was gray, just gray. The walls had been freshly painted, a light mint green colour and the bed spreads matched, the funiture made from fine, dark, glossy wood. Cas knew, just by looking around, that he couldn't stay here much longer, not without using his credit card and if he did that it wouldn't be hard to trace him back. He supposed he could just money out from an ATM but even then they'd be able to sort some sort of pattern, or see through any tricks he might try to pull. No better to find someone to stay with, someone he could trust. but who? Joe? Ash? Chuck? Dean?

The name stopped him dead in his tracks. _Dean. _Even the sound of it had a whole new meaning now. What did it mean? What was the point in that dream? Who could he talk to?

A small part of him remembered the chaste little boy who would have hidden all of these thoughts in the closet never to be seen again, and the other part chuckled at the irony of that statement. With one hand, he reached into his satchel and pulled out a bottle of gin, smelling the sweet, firey liquid before pouring it down his throat, feeling the wild burn. He didn't think he could ever drink without wincing, or having the sensation that he was to be sick but that wasn't going to stop him.

His thoughts were heavy, each second making him angrier and angrier. Meg, the boiling water, his screams. He could help but tremble, his hand finding his wrist and feeling the faint, puckering scars. Once, so long ago, he had gone to his father begging for help. It was the thrird time Meg had looked after Castiel and he had decided he couldn't take anymore, rushing to his father, the only one he thought could help him.

_"Pappa, please," wept the small boy, "she won't stop. She said I killed Mam-"_

_"Castiel stop, this isn't funny. Your Aunt Meg is a kind and gracious woman, you're lucky she's here."_

_Castiel surged forward, pulling back on his sleeve to show the lines she had cut into him. 3, one for each visit. His father took it gently, his eyes wide with panic._

_"What have you done to yourself?"_

_"Me!? Papa I didn't-"_

_His father raised him into his lap and slapped him, punishing him. "God did not give you choices for you to harm yourself, why Castiel, why?"_

_It had been the first and the last time his father had hit him, and the first Castiel had seen his father openly weep. _

He looked at his left wrist now, the three marks he had tried to show were now the faintest, but there were seven more up his arm, and on the right, another seven. They were mainly faint, almost unseen by most but Castiel, Castiel could see each and every one. Even when Dean had seen his wrists had had not seen the full extent.

1 - when Meg had beat him so hard his blood splattered the walls

2 - when the kids at school called his mother a whore

3 - when meg left him with no food, or water in a cellar for 4 days

4 - when the other kids would threaten him at school

5 - when Meg told him his brothers hated him

6 - when his father invited Meg to live with them

7 - when no one would listen

8 - when no one would care

9 - when he was alone

10 - when Michael started to ask him why he always wore thick sweaters

11 - when the teachers asked him why new purple bruises flowered on his face

12 - when his father ignored his screams

13 - when Michael discovered his cuts

14 - when he concluded that he was only get one last chance to control the pain

The day Michael had found the cuts, the cried. For weeks, Cas had told everyone at home he was being bullied, which wasn't lying, and he would tell his teachers that he was begun some sort o boxing, to build up strength - but the day Michael had dragged him into his father's office was the day Castiel stopped cutting.

_"Look what she did to him?! Why didn't you listen?"_

For weeks after, Michael would make Cas take off his shirt, and he'd count the cuts to make sure no new cuts had been formed. Not too long after, he'd make Cas take off his pants too incase he cut his legs. But he didn't need to, not now his big brother was there, not now he knew someone cared. After that they had moved away, Michael always looking out for Castiel until he called her, until he tried to solve everything.

_Please don't go Michael. I need you. _

He had meant it more than he could ever say, and now the words were lost on his lips. Cas pushed from the half-breakfast counter and tore off his coat, ripping off his shirt in a flash so that he exposed his full arms and could see the full exposure of his harming. Michael had told him it made him seem weak, that he had to be stronger. Bally never knew about the cuts along the arm, even father didn't, only Michael and now he was gone, dead as the wind to him. Would one more hurt, woould maybe two? He didn't need to think, he just dug around in the cupboard and picked up the sharpest knife he could see. Some sick, twisted part of wondered if he could carve angel wings along his back, maybe then God would see him, myabe God would listen. The cool metal lay against his skin, his right arm trembled under the touch and then - it was like lightning. Sharp and shocking, a jolt rushed through him and the knife clattered to the ground with a metallic clash. He could almost feel Michael's dissapproving eye watching him, judging. He rushed the bathroom and turned the faucet, letting the cool water spill into the basin before dabbing it across his cut. Before it had felt like freedom, now it just felt like sharp nothingness.

"I have to be punished," he cried, "I have to be." But for what? For being gay? Was he gay? What qualified? He'd dreamed of Dean, he liked the dream, felt safe in the dream, and he had often thought about the other boy in ways that would have sent the nuns of Rome rushing for the hills but did it count? He knew he had to be punished for the pain he brought his family, the shame he brought to God..."Why can't you kill me?" he begged, "She killed me all those years ago, why can't you?" He sank to the floor, water slowly tumbling on the floor around him. He looked up, his face to the ceiling, "Please God, kill me."

(x)

The pills rattled in his bag with each step he took, almost as if they were reminding him of their presence. Castiel had bought them in the spur of the moment, not really intending to use them but the idea was oddly comforting.

(x)

Dean swung into his chair at English with ease, not sparing Cas a glance and he was glad. The more distance he put between him and Dean, the better. Mr Kripke walked in with a stack of books, a wide smile on his face.

"Okay guys, today we're switching it up and starting the Great Gatsby. Now, who's read it already?"

A few hands, including Castiel and Dean's, shot up. My Kripke made eye contact with Castiel and pointed, "Okay then, Castiel tell us what the title tells us about Gatsby himself."

"Well...The Great Gatsby sounds like a magician, some sort of act which is exactly what Gatsby is. He's smoke and mirrors, fairy-tale illusions and lies. His name isn't even Gatsby but James Gatz and yet he can hide behind this persona because it becomes him, much like a magician's act and magic becomes a part of his."

"And do you think Gatsby meant for his persona to last? Surely a man with pure intentions-"

"He never had pure intentions," interuppted Dean. "Sure, er, his love for Daisy was pure but not his intentions. C'mon, he was trying to buy her off with money. And yes he meant for the persona to last, he was never going to tell Daisy, she'd run a mile. Sure Gatsby is admirable, he did was he did for love, he was corrupted by the American Dream but he wasn't a good guy."

Mr Kripke smiled, leaning against the rotting wooden desk and staring intently at Dean, "So who do you think was better for Daisy? Gatsby or Tom?"

"I'd like to say Gatsby but Tom."

"Why? He's a brute."

"Not to her."

"But to Myrtle-"

"She isn't Myrtle."

"How about the affairs?"

Dean leaned back, as if the questions meant nothing to him and ran a hand through his soft golden hair, "Common practise. You're missing one key aspect here Mr K."

"And that is?"

"Tom never lied to Daisy. How can you love someone who lies to themselves?"

(x)

"Cas, can I talk to you," Dean whispered against his ear when the bell rang. Cas found himself gulping and followed in pursuit. He couldn't deny that he was drawn to this boy, regardless of what he thought.

The two of them made their way from the main building and out into the open lunch area, where only a few people milled around. Dean abruptly turned, forcing Cas to gaze right into his bright, emerald eyes.

"There's something-"

The rattle seemed so much louder now. Cas had shifted his satchel which sat uncomfortably on his shoulder.

"What was that rattle?"

"Just some-"

"Some what?"

"Pills."

Dean moved in closer, his hand instinctivly ran along the other boy's arm, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," he lied. "Their just for migranes."

Dean wasn't stupid, Cas knew that but for now the lie seemed to suffice. "Something happened that I can't keep to myself."

A worried look overtook his handsome face, as if someone had begun to slash at a delicate painting. "We...we kissed, and I don't think you remember-"

"What!"

"-which surprised me cause I'm a pretty good kisser."

Castiel stepped away from Dean, his eyes wide with panic but inside, inside he knew it was true.

"You were drunk, I was trying to say sorry about looking at your scars and then, well you grabbed me and..."

"_I _grabbed _you!?" _Castiel glared, every part of him on fire. "You took advantage of me-"

"I didn't have my way with you!"

"That doesn't matter! I'm not like you, you can't make me."

Pain sliced across Dean, his green eyes growing darker. Castiel hoped he knew he didn't mean what he said, that was scared, that he was alone. But he couldn't stop, he kept yelling at Dean that he was not gay, that Dean could not touch him, that is was all a mistake.

"Just a terrible, disgusting mistake!"

"Why disgusting?" growled Dean.

"Being gay...it's wrong!"

Dean laughed, actually laughed. It was manic and dark, the sort found when someone wanted to hide their tears. "What was it you told me? I had nothing to be ashamed of?"

"I was lying! Everything- everything about you is wrong."

_Why. _

The other boy just stared, his voice quiet and sombre, "I don't know what's up with you Cas. But this isn't you. And I-I can help, but you gotta let me in."

Dean walked away, without another word. Castiel felt as if he were crumbling on the spot and watched as the other boy was swallowed whole by the student body. He wondered if he could ever let Dean in, if he could ever tell the other boy what was happening. But regardless, they had kissed, and Cas had forgotten. Or had he? Did he want to remember, or was it one of those things that had felt so natural you didn't even think twice about it.

(x)

Castiel used the knife again that night, and added 5 new red, bloody lines to his arms ;

1 - for the pain he had caused Dean

2 - for the shame he had brought God

3 - for the lies he had told

4 - for the stirring love he'd have to hide

5 - for the murder of Castiel Jude Dubois

When he was done, if felt right, like the punishment it had once been. Maybe it was because he deserved it, maybe because there was no choice, maybe because now he was truly alone.

(x)

A/N - wow i've been gone for ages and for that i'm sorry! but i will be back, posting as much as possible.


	11. Darkness

The large banners were plastered around the school. Bright pink lettering exploding with words proclaiming the upcoming school dance. Castiel winces at the over use of glitter and the love hearts carefully drawn on with care.

"I know," sighed Jo beside him, "hideous isn't it?"

"You don't like dancing?"

"I like dancing, I just don't like dances." The two turned to look at one another, and Joe couldn't help but laugh at Castiel's bemused face. "You've never been to one of these before have you?"

"Can't say that I have. I don't like people enough to go."

"Well basically it's one of those times were girls spend hundreds of dollars on dresses they don't even want, and guys think everyone's easy because they're drunk. It's a night for the popular kids to remember when their stuck with dead-end jobs in the future."

"Sounds fun," he mumbled.

The bell run around them and in a matter of moments, the brightly light halls were full of students. Jo was swept up in the current, just the top of her little blond hair visible. Castiel couldn't make out what she was saying but he thought it was along the lines of don't be late for class! He turned on his heels only to smack right into someone, sending him tumbling to the floor. A sharp pain rushed along his side as he made contact with the ground, and seemed to last as he pulled himself up.

"I'm sorry- Sam?"

"Oh hi Castiel," smiled the younger Winchester, who reached out his hand. Castiel took it and pulled the boy up with ease, "Haven't seen you around in a while."

"I've been er- I've been busy."

"I guess that makes sense," he smiled, his large doe eyes bright and full of innocence."Castiel, you okay?"

"Why do you ask?"

"You're staring."

"I do that," he blurted.

Sam smiled at him and pat him sympathetically on the arm. Castiel turned to watch him as he walked away, thinking that he wanted nothing more than to shout, "Tell Dean I'm sorry!" but he remained silent and hurried forward.

(x)

How can you love someone who lies to themself?

Another pill dissolved on the tip of his tounge as he stared out at the lake, the sunlight jumping off it as if it were a mirror. Castiel replayed his favorite song on his ipod - Temper Trap - Soldier On. Recently, it had made him think of Dean though he could never pinpoint why, but just the thought of Dean made him relax, made him feel safe, made him feel like a monster. He had to push him away, to forget about his green eyes, to forget about how golden his hair was in the sunlight. Castiel thought about Dean's Impala, the thick leathery smell, the feel of the seats - he had to forget it all.

I don't want to forget Dean Winchester. I don't think I can forget Dean Winchester.

He took another pill, this time swallowing hard and keeping down the bile that rose in his throat. Castiel thought about writing, about the stories he wanted to tell, he thought about the sounds of the birds, he thought about the green of the grass. He thought of his family, of the music he would once hear Bally play or the scowl Michael would give him when he misbehaved. He wondered what would happen if he went to find them, would they be angry, ashamed?

"Aw look what we have here," chuckled a thick English accent.

"Not now Crowley," snapped Castiel, without even glancing at him.

"Actually, I think now would be the perfect time."

In almost a flash, Crowley lifted Castiel from the ground in a simple movement, hoisting him up like game. One of the others with him began to riffle through Castiel's satchel, taking his wallet, keys and phone.

"What's wrong Cassie? Don't like sharing?"

Before he could kick out, Crowley head butted him, sending his head into a wave of dizziness. Some one pulled down his trousers, the thick sound of laughter rich around him.

"Hold him down," ordered a new voice.

Castiel could barely focus as he was stripped of his clothing, he could barely kick out. Someone took his head and lifted it as if to look into his eyes, but instead sent a knee shooting against in. Castiel couldn't hold on any longer, and he let the darkness take over him.

(x)

In his dreams, Castiel could feel it all happening. He could see himself screaming at them from behind a glass barrier, unable to break through and stop them. he felt cold, as if he was buried in ice and snow but he didn't care about that. He could find the strength to care about anything.

(x)

"Castiel! Castiel! Cas, please buddy, Cas please wake up!"

Someone was holding him close to their chest, a warm and comforting sensation running through him.

"Please Cas, please don't die," the voice begged.

His body felt as if it had been laced with stone, as if someone had stitched every joint into place. He opened his eyes and felt as if he was tearing back a layer of dead skin, only to look up at a dull emerald shine, still visible in the black sky above.

"I'm sorry Dean."

"Don't talk like that."

"Li...like what?"

Dean was silent as he stripped off his coat and lifted Castiel. He realised he had been left in the lake, the cool water lapping over his skin, and that Dean must have dragged him out.

"Dean..."

"Yeah," he whispered as he tried to gently wrap Castiel in his coat.

"I'm wet."

And, to the sound of Dean's faint chuckle, Castiel let go.

(x)

A/N: I'd like to apologize for my lack of writing and the horrible spelling/grammar errors I've made through this! The remaining chapeters won't have as many. (TW: rape) - hope this was okay.


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